Fighter
by darrencrissforeva
Summary: Kurt Hummel goes back to school and finds the new transfer student, Blaine Anderson, to be completely different from what he expected. In a bad way. Sort of. But he's really hot...and a lot deeper than he seems. Badboy!Blaine Romance/Angst/Hurt/Comfort
1. Chapter 1

**A/N This is the first ever fanfiction that I've written and uploaded, let alone multi-chapter fic, so I'm sorry if it's not very good :) everyone has to start somewhere... I'd love it if you would leave a review if you read it, and I welcome con-crit, because I want to get better at writing these fics! Let me know if you think I should continue it! **

**I know that this is a pretty predictable start to this sort of fanfic, but I'm completely obsessed with the whole badboy Blaine thing that went around a while ago and I can read anything as long as it has Blaine/ Darren Criss in a leather jacket in it :) ****I'm also totally obsessed with Klaine (surprise surprise) so I hope this is okay :)**

**Oh, I forgot to say this chapter is really long and I know some people don't like that, but I can't stop myself writing (sorry XD) so all my chapters are likely to be fairly long.**

**I'm going to apologise in advance because I'm just about to name it and it's sure to be horrendous (I have NO IDEA what to call it...) :)**** Now I'm going to shut up cause I'm nervously rambling and... I hope you enjoy it :D **

**Oh yeah-**

**D/C I don't own glee, any of the characters, places... I basically own nothing in this fic so don't sue :) please...**

It was the first day of school.

Kurt took a deep breath and started his car smoothly, dreading the day ahead. His hand clenched the steering wheel tightly as he put the car into gear. He was thankful Finn was getting a lift from Rachel that day – he didn't want to have to deal with his overprotective and worried step-brother.

Five long minutes later, Kurt pulled into the parking lot next to the dumpsters at McKinley High School (which he was all too well acquainted with thanks to a certain bunch of Neanderthals in letterman jackets). He occupied his shaking hands with retrieving his key and flopped back against the warm leather of his seat, anticipating a long, most likely slushie-filled day ahead of him. Gulping back a sob, he climbed out of his car; dreading it wasn't going to make it go away. He was Kurt Hummel – he was above the stupid homophobic jocks and he would not let it get to him before the day had even begun.

Sure, he was looking forward to seeing his girlfriends (even Rachel, he admitted grudgingly, though between her and Mercedes he was pretty sure his phone bill was going to be absolutely monstrous) and his fellow glee-clubbers, but they couldn't protect him...

Stepping neatly across the lots, Kurt zoned in on a tell-tale head of short brown hair moving uncoordinatedly above the sea of students, connected to a broad torso in a red football jacket and followed by a small brunette head of hair and pair of knee-length socks.

"Rachel!" he called, making use of his long legs to catch up with the short girl. She spun round, shushing him whilst giggling and gesturing at her phone. Finn cast him a slightly pissed glance and repeated her phone gesture but with a bit of bitterness. Seeing a familiar Mohawk, his tall step-brother gave him a brief wave and then cut through the crowd towards Puckerman.

"I know right...he's so...OMG, really?...Kay, bye, yep...see ya!"

Still violently giggling, she ended the call and, squealing, ran and hugged Kurt.

"Woah, Rachel," Kurt gently pushed her away straightening his new jumper and tracing his carefully coiffed hair anxiously, "What's up?"

"Hi," she said, breathlessly, "Have you seen the new transfer student yet?" She was full of pent-up enthusiasm, so Kurt took a subtle step backwards; Rachel was pretty likely to explode at normal emotional levels and this was... concerning.

"Errm... I've only just got here, Rach, and..."

"OMG-" Kurt sighed, she was obviously having another 'OMG' phase "-come right now!" Rachel grabbed his arm, tugging forcefully, but Kurt deftly twisted out of her grip.

"I'm not going to go stare at some kid just cause they're new – I'm sure it's the last thing they want, and I know how it feels to be..."

"But Kuuuuuuuuuurt..." Rachel interrupted, whining.

"No! God, what's up with... him or her?"

"Him. Definitely-" she giggled again "-You'll have to wait and see if you refuse to succumb to my summons." Smirking, Rachel trotted pertly off through the main entrance, leaving Kurt trailing behind her, still slightly whip-lashed from her sudden change in tune.

God. Rachel was such a drama queen but he loved her anyway. He felt a stab of pity for this new kid. She was obviously far more worked up than a normal person would be – this was Rachel Berry – but seriously? She had practically hauled him halfway across the parking lot before he'd escaped her vice-like grasp.

After walking confidently down the corridor, he was beginning to feel his initial nerves dulling – he had only seen a few more football jocks and the hockey players had always been a bit more passive towards him. He stopped at his dented locker, entered the combination and began his usual routine of jiggling and tugging at the lock. He pushed back memories of the various incidents that had messed up his faithful locker of two years – a series of violent locker shoves he had unwillingly participated in when the slushie machine broke last year. Stacking a few old textbooks and three carefully selected spare sets of clothing in the misshapen metal, he hung up a small bag of his toiletries for cleaning up after slushie-facials and smiled faintly at the pictures of him and his glee friends (his only friends, come to think of it) posing ridiculously for the camera. They were great, but they were so painfully oblivious to the problems he had at the school. At least he had glee second period. He had to avoid his bullies for as long as possible.

Kurt shoved his locker closed with slightly more venom than the old door deserved and then slipped across the hallway to link arms with his best friend.

"-Cedes!"

"Kurt!" She exclaimed, and enveloped him in a huge hug. "I've missed you, white boy!"

"Cedes, I saw you on Tuesday. But, I missed you too!" He hugged her again briefly and then grabbed her timetable. "Look, we've both got English next, come on..."

"Have you seen-"

"Are you kidding me? Don't say it – the transfer kid?"

Mercedes face confirmed this as she suppressed a giggle.

"Ugh! Why are you and Rachel and -" He glanced around, taking in a bunch of Cheerios gossiping into their cell phones "-what seems to be the whole female McKinley population being so obsessive? I mean, Rachel was chatting to _someone_ on the phone earlier about-" Kurt scrutinised the guilty look on Mercedes' face "-him, and she's completely overusing 'OMG' again. I thought we'd cured her, but she's clearly having a relapse." He paused. "Sorry about the mini rant, I'm just-"

"-nervous about the first day, I get it. Don't worry! But, OMG, he's..."

"Not you as well!" Kurt groaned theatrically, before smiling at her.

"You wait till you see him, you'll see" Mercedes said smugly, before re-linking their arms and heading towards English.

When they reached the classroom he separated from Mercedes and took his customary seat next to Rachel, Mercedes taking the space next to Tina.

Kurt watched in disinterest as Mr Rogers wrote his name and "X2 AP English" on the board in a painfully squeaky green pen. Kurt turned to Rachel, no longer listening to his teacher's over rehearsed speech on appropriate and inappropriate class behaviour. Much to his amusement, Rachel had already resumed her giggling and was passing notes forward to a slightly flushed Mercedes and Tina with a poor attempt at nonchalance.

Leaning forwards a degree, he read through the conversation as Rachel scrawled at the bottom 'lol, Kurt's going to...' She noticed Kurt reading, stuck her tongue out at him and pushed her notebook so it blocked his view. He snatched the lined sheet and read through the brief conversation sniggering at the many dreamy comments referring to 'him'. Whoever this 'him' was, apparently his eyes were like pure sex (Kurt didn't even want to think about their ability to use that simile) and he found it hard to swallow a small giggle at the other comments the crushing girls had made. Unable to resist, he stole Rachel's pen, scribbled some bitchy remark about stalkers and allowed a blushing Rachel to retrieve it. Thinking it over, he plucked the sheet from the girl again and hastily jotted down a demand for an explanation considering his involvement in their conversation. As he passed the paper back, Rogers started handing out textbooks and book lists, leaving one on the empty desk behind him. Obviously they were expecting another student.

The classroom door banged open and Kurt watched a pair of chunky, battered black converse swagger into the room. Rachel nudged him whispering excitedly 'that's him' before exchanging meaningful glances with the pair in front. Rachel was so ridiculously enthusiastic; Kurt couldn't help but tease her by refusing to look up.

Mr Rogers monotonic voice stuttered to an abrupt halt as the aging teacher took in the transfer student. Eyes fixed on his desk, Kurt could vaguely make out a note being thrust under the teacher's nose and he watched out of the corner of his eye the heavy-weight shoes as they took the seat behind him.

"Mr Anderson, you can take the seat next to...oh, where you are's fine, that's your textbook and list for the year-"

Kurt lost interest again and decided to focus on his new timetable, slowly memorising it (he would no doubt have lost half of it by the end of the day due to a well placed slushie).

Half an hour later, the teacher was well into a new lecture on the benefits of the extra-curricular reading club, when Kurt noticed that Rogers was watching Rachel suspiciously as he spoke. Nudging her, he muttered a quiet 'shush', warning her to stop whispering to the desk in front.

"Mr Hummel, Miss Berry! Focus, please." The teacher eyed them one more time, made out as if to restart his interrupted monologue, and then approached them; picking up the girls' scribbled conversation. His eyes briefly scanned through it, and then, glaring, said "I think we ought to separate you four." The teacher quickly directed to the grumbling seniors where to sit, widely spread out through the classroom. "Mr Hummel, if you would please-"

"But, sir, I wasn't involved..."

"I beg to differ, Mr Hummel, now go and sit down next to Mr Anderson. No complaints."

Kurt stood up, leaving Rachel at the desk alone and piled up his stuff. In one fluid movement he stepped into the seat behind her and placed it gently down, not daring to make a loud noise in retaliation. He knew Mr Rogers well enough to assume that this would be the seat he would take for the rest of the year. Deciding that he was in enough trouble for his first lesson, Kurt leant on his hand, not sparing a glance for the person he was seated next to, focussing only on the drab tone of the English teacher's voice.

"-as we read through it, I will be giving you partnered language analogy projects to complete. These will go towards your final grade. You will be working with the person sitting next to you, and I don't want any moaning, as there are no valid reasons you can give for me to change your partnerships unless I deem it absolutely necessary because of refusal to work etc. The sheets you are about to come and collect mark the deadline for your first project and the details-"

"You and me then, babe?"

Kurt sat up straight, shocked. Was the new guy flirting with him? He took his first look at his partner and then gulped. Embarrassingly loudly.

This... Anderson guy was really hot and gorgeous and... Kurt stopped himself, glancing down, blushing at his thoughts. Bad decision. Kurt tried to tear his eyes away from the way his white t-shirt hugged his chest, showing the outlines of a well-defined torso, and the dark green shirt he was wearing on top contrasted so well with his deeply tanned skin, almost Italian in colour... No! Kurt reprimanded himself. So, another hot, no doubt straight guy was walking the halls of his school. Just another person for Kurt to develop a hopeless crush on... He wasn't even going there. This was his _straight_ (as far as he was concerned) English partner, not someone he should be thinking about in this way.

Taking a deep breath, Kurt removed his eyes from their current occupation and let them meet his neighbour's. And he fell back to square one. They were like little pools of syrup, flecked with gold and slightly darker in colour around the edges... Oh no, he was internally describing this guy's eyes. Not a good start. And he didn't even let himself start on the dishevelled dark brown curls that covered the top of his head.

"Like what you see?" He smirked, jerking Kurt a little out of his fantasy.

He was tongue-tied; any pity he may have felt for this guy at the start of the day was slipping away – he hated it when the jocks at the school flirted with him this way, trying to make him uncomfortable. Clearly this new kid was no exception to the homophobia rampant at McKinley.

Kurt tried painstaking to tear his eyes away from the honey ones that were smirking at his sudden flush, and focussed them on the gunmetal ring that pierced his eyebrow, trying to whip out one of his typical cuttingly sarcastic remarks. Until he was distracted by the thought of licking that little ring, tugging on it, hearing him moan...God! What was wrong with him?

Kurt decided that to avoid answering that question and probably mortifying himself further with an even more unusual shade of maroon, he would walk to the front and collect the instructions for their project, something he realised all of the other pairs had done minutes ago; they were now discussing and arranging times to complete the work. He was going to have to work with... 'Anderson' for the rest of the year after school.

Flustered, Kurt leapt out of his seat, and then discovered he had a small problem. Well, kind of a big one, because he was wearing skin-tight jeans, and his jumper wasn't knee-length and couldn't cover any issues he may or not have been having. Cheeks even hotter, he sidled up to the front and then tried to get to the back of the classroom facing anyone but sexy-hot-guy (as Kurt was starting to call him in his head – 'Anderson' seemed a bit weird) and trying to slip into his seat. He was unsuccessful.

Sexy-hot-guy was raking his eyes unashamedly up and down Kurt's body, grinning lewdly at his hard-on.

"Nice ass you've got there Hummel, wouldn't mind having a piec..."

"Can you stop it!" Kurt exclaimed loudly, flushing and earning himself a glare from the front desk. "Stop with all the teasing and just take half the work. Stop being such a homophobic asshole and STOP WITH THE STUPID MEANINGLESS FLIRTING!"

"Who says it's meaningless? I'd be honoured to help with your little problem-" Sexy-hot-guy smirked at him "-I could blo-"

"NO! Don't even say it" Kurt yelled. "Just cut it out okay!"

"Principal's office now, Mr Hummel, Mr Anderson." Crap. Kurt had forgotten Mr Roger's was there, screw it, he'd forgotten he was in a classroom.

Standing up wearily, he apologised to the teacher, and slowly packed his bag, holding it strategically in front of his crotch.

"Old Figgins must be missing me by now – wouldn't want him to be deprived of my presence for too long." Anderson strutted out of the classroom, shrugging on a tattered black leather jacket that broadened his shoulders even more and slinging a ratty grey backpack over his shoulder. Kurt discovered he had a deeply buried thing for leather jackets. If the new kid kept wearing it, Kurt knew he was going to be in trouble. Taking a deep breath, praying to the God he didn't believe in that he'd get out of this without his father finding out, Kurt walked awkwardly after Sexy-hot-guy (he had got to stop referring to him as that), the memory of his tight black jeans causing him to limp slightly at his throbbing problem. How could this jerk be having such an effect on him – he was rude, obnoxious and without any doubt the most attr-unattractive boy Kurt had ever met. He repeated this to himself as he followed the old converse down the hall towards the principal's office.

A long wait outside the office and a brief reprimand from Figgins led to him receiving two weeks after school detention with 'Blaine', as the principal referred to him. Blaine had received 4 weeks detention because apparently he had to twist everything Kurt or Figgins said into an innuendo.

The bell was due to go in four minutes, and the corridor was silent as he and Se- no, Blaine walked back down towards English in silence, Kurt trying to avoid Blaine's persistent checking out and attempts at sidling closer and slipping his hands into the tight back pockets of his white jeans. Thinking of an excuse to ditch Blaine, he stopped at his locker and started fiddling with the dodgy lock, fully expecting him to keep walking. His fingers started to fumble as he tried to open the locker with Blaine blatantly staring at his ass.

Bang.

Kurt leapt away from the locker as Blaine's fist slammed into it. The locker swung open.

"All you have to do is hit it babe,"

Kurt felt a funny churn in his stomach when Blaine called him 'babe', then remembering Blaine was straight and he should not be interested in him.

"Don't call me that... Blaine." He tried to infuse his voice with sufficient venom to sound slightly intimidating, but ended up sounding like a scared baby penguin.

"Why babe? Don't tell me you don't like it..."

"I don't need another homophobic asshole making it his life's work to mess me up. I'm surprised you're not scared you'll catch the gay by hanging around with me."

Blaine twisted one corner of his mouth up in a smirk Kurt was starting to recognise and raised an eyebrow suggestively.

"But babe-" Blaine shoved him into the locker roughly, "-I'm not just some homophobic asshole-" He pressed his whole body against Kurt's briefly, then hovered millimetres away from him the whole way down Kurt's body, "-am I?" Blaine blew over his earlobe, and then harshly snapped away. "See ya around babe."

Kurt watched in shock as the boy walked away and then sank to the ground by his locker, horrified by how his body had responded to Blaine. Who could maybe be gay. Or bi. Maybe. Hopefully, Kurt found himself thinking, before angrily pushing the thought away. The last thing Kurt needed was a crush on the new bad boy. Which was a completely out of date and clichéd style anyway. And he did NOT find it attractive on Blaine Anderson.

The bell went and he headed off to glee club, still flustered and reeling.

* * *

**A/N Thanks so much to you guys who read it! Please review - I'm in desperate need of a confidence boost now (nervous about uploading it), and I really want to carry it on, but I don't know if people will like it. As I said before, I'd love to get con-crit to help me improve it and plot ideas are welcome too...**

**Soooooooooo, finally thanks again to those of you who read it the whole way though! Love and klainbows to you all 3 xxx**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N Thanks so much for the reviews guys! This chapter is pretty dodgy but I promise it'll get better (I hope :0)! Reviews make me ridiculously happy so... *hint hint***

**I managed to hold back when writing this chapter, so it's not too long this time :)**

**D/C I don't own anything to do with glee (luckily, cause it wouldn't be half as awesome if I did)... so don't sue :)**

* * *

"Hey Kurt, where did you go after you got sent out?"

Kurt groaned; Rachel was the last thing he wanted to deal with right now, when he was feeling so...confused.

"Um, I just went to my locker, you know, got out some music for glee-"

"Oh, wow, is it from Wicked or Westside story? I'm so excited; I've missed our fellow glee-clubbers so much this summer haven't you? Can I see the music? I've brought a load of stuff that will feat-"

"-ure you heavily on the lead vocals, I know Rachel. To answer your questions, no it's not, yes I've missed them and no you can't see it, I think I forgot to take it out after all." Kurt snapped.

Rachel cast him a slightly offended look before starting to list all of the different songs she wanted to sing in this year and which glee club members she thought could benefit most from her guidance. This gave Kurt a chance to drift off – Rachel probably wouldn't finish her monologue until Mr Schue arrived in the choir room and allowed her to take over and he had a lot on his mind.

For one, he was positive that the effect Blaine Anderson was having on him was bad – the last thing he needed to be doing was crushing on the asshole that he'd already started fantasising about. If the prick hadn't got that damn eyebrow piercing... Even thinking about it, Kurt was starting to feel hot. He'd never really felt attracted to anyone like this before and it was towards a capital J jerk. Who he'd sooner make out with than kill. Damn.

The other thing was, is he actually gay, or was this a more elaborate trap by the jocks in order to mess him up? It sounded ridiculous, even in his head, but so did the idea of this sexy boy actually showing attraction towards him. He did not need more heartbreak – yes, he was horrified now by his old crush on Finn, but at the time it had messed him up. And Sam, who had been so kind about the whole fiasco. He was not about to let it happen again and Kurt's snap-judgment of Blaine was telling him that with Blaine it would hit him so much worse, and that Blaine was exactly the kind of boy to deliver more heartache to him. Anyway, his dad was unlikely to even let Blaine in the house for a project with that attitude, let alone as a boyfriend. Woah, he was getting ahead of himself. Way ahead.

Kurt stepped into the choir room and let himself get caught up in the madness he loved so much; another of Mr Schue's horrendous lesson plans, Rachel and Santana bitching over the lead and Finn knocking over yet another brittle chair...

Following the depressingly fast-passing hour of glee, Kurt persuaded the girls that they needed to camp out in the girls' toilets during their free period, under the pretence of some desperate "makeover" issue. It seemed the only logical way of avoiding Blaine...and the jocks of course. Unfortunately for Kurt, all the girls wanted to discuss was the 'sexy new kid, Blaine'.

"-in our English class-"

"-totally checking out Kurt-"

"What!" Kurt exclaimed a bit too loudly. "He was not! He's straight, 'Cedes, and I have no idea what you're talking about."

Mercedes gave him an understanding smile before twisting it into a smirk when Kurt flushed at his outburst. He realised that with the number of times he'd blushed today so far, he could probably go for a record.

"Deny it all you like white boy; he spent one half of the lesson staring at your backside and the other half commenting on your blatant staring..."

"Wha-How-What! My 'blatant' staring...?"

Rachel piped up, "Don't think we weren't watching you gape at him for a good five minutes before blushing, yelling and getting sent out," she wiggled her eyebrows, "and he's totally your type-"

Pulling out his iciest bitch-face, Kurt stood up and said frostily, "How would you know my type? And also, I wasn't gaping-" Rachel snorted in a very unladylike fashion, "I will see you in the other free period we've got last. Good bye." Kurt stood up, ignoring the sniggering emanating from the hyperactive girls, walking over to the door. "Please feel free to continue making up a fictional love life for me." Kurt couldn't help adding the sarcastic comment, before realising how bitchy he was being. He was still wound up by Blaine though, he defended.

He dramatically exited the ladies room, a little half-heartedly, and then spun around walking straight into...Blaine. Typical.

Kurt smacked into the firm, warm body, before leaping back, embarrassed. He caught his foot on something and stumbled, his first thought being of how humiliating falling over in front of Blaine would be. Instead of falling, he felt a pair of strong hands grip his biceps, and he tumbled gratefully towards the being that had caught him. Oh right, this was Blaine he was collapsing on.

He stood up straight, hands fluttering over his dishevelled outfit, willing his usually porcelain face to remain pale. Blushing now would be the final straw in trying to keep Blaine away from him. Much to his surprise, Blaine just walked on, but not before he had slowly dragged his eyes from Kurt's booted feet to his slightly mussed up hair and muttered a quick "Getting desperate, are we babe?" He felt a stab of disappointment that he quickly supressed when Blaine didn't show any more interest in him, and watched as the disconcertingly short boy strolled past him and ignored an offered fist bump from a football jock. Kurt put the feeling down to the lack of attention he'd received last year in the school – he had NO feelings whatsoever towards the boy except a mild (but growing stronger) sense of dislike. And the 'babe' thing had got to stop because it was starting to get to him.

Over the next two lessons, he heard a lot more rumours about Blaine, whilst feigning disinterest, as Rachel seemed to have been asking around the school. Apparently the boy had gotten himself into the principal's office twice more already from mouthing off to teachers and there were a few rumours saying that before his transfer he'd been attending the juvenile detention centre in Westerville. Kurt wasn't sure what to believe, but he sure as hell wasn't going to ask the boy himself.

* * *

By lunchtime, the lack of bullying had seemed unrealistic, so Kurt was unsurprised when he saw Azimio and Karofsky stomping down the corridor like they owned it, both wielding large blue slushies and the red letterman jackets that shielded teachers' eyes from their wrongdoings. Feeling tired out from the long day, Kurt couldn't will himself to even make an attempt at hiding. He just shut his eyes and tried not to gasp as painful chunks of ice slid down his face and neck, staining his clothes and stinging in his screwed up eyes. Ignoring the "Welcome back, fairy boy", Kurt chose the passive option and just slid down the locker he was shoved against, deciding he couldn't deal with the consequences of his usually untamed sarcasm today.

He had needed the reminder anyway. His so far relatively sheltered day (bar his...conversation...with Blaine) had made him forget his position in the high school food chain. Bottom-dweller, glee club loser, effeminate gay kid and favourite punch bag of the football teams. Not much then.

* * *

**A/N Hope it wasn't too bad, I'm going to spend longer making the next chapter good, but I was so excited to upload another chapter... anyway, please review for me! Love you lots :) and as before, klainebows if you review! 3 xxxxxxxx P.S. I know I overuse ellipsis :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N Hey guys! This one's a bit longer than the other one was, and I hope it worked out better... :/ I can't get my head round the fact that you guys are actually reading this, so thanks! I'm hoping that I might start adding plot soon (plot!), but I'm kinda making this up as I go along so... Hope you enjoy it :P**

**D/C I don't own glee... :'( if I did, it would likely become the Klaine show :)**

* * *

Kurt spent the next two periods in the empty girl's toilets in the far end of the school near the auditorium, cleaning up and calming down, texting Mercedes to tell her not to look for him and that he'd explain in last period study session.

He'd first started hiding out in the girl's toilets after the glee Lady Gaga assignment last year, which was the turning point in his bullying problems – the point when they got drastically worse. After that week, the footballers (mainly Karofsky) had started really bearing down on him; single slushies became triple slushies, shoulder bumps in the corridors became full blown locker shoves that left him with bruises for days. He'd been the definition of black and blue all over. He tried his best to hide it under long sleeves and wore thicker clothes than he used to, to try and prevent unnecessary bruises, but somehow nothing seemed to work. No one had noticed how he would wince as he slung his vintage leather satchel over his shoulder or suppress a flinch when Finn gave him one of his signature older-but-actually-younger-brother bear hugs; it seemed they were completely oblivious of the issues he was having.

During those two hours, he'd first wiped his face carefully and rinsed out his burning eyes, before going back to his locker and sighing as he chose his first replacement outfit of the year. The clothes he had stocked in his locker could probably keep him okay for a week, maybe two if he was really lucky. After a longer rinse through his brunette hair and a quick re-application of his faithful hair spray, Kurt examined the new bruises blossoming across his back. He'd always bruised easily, but he was shocked to see the clear hinge marks winding across his pale skin. They must have shoved him harder than he'd thought. Gently tugging his shirt over his head and buttoning his slim fit waistcoat, he checked his watch; two minutes until he was meant to be meeting the girls. The majority of his time had been spent hiding in a cubicle when two Cheerios he didn't recognise came into the almost never used toilets. If it had been anyone other than a pair of cheerleaders he would've stayed out there (he spent a lot of time in the highly frequented ones as well, only accompanied by his girlfriends usually, so it was less awkward), but he really didn't need the comments he'd come to expect from students who fitted with the more popular norms that he'd always avoided.

Two minutes later, Kurt was walking into the study room, flanked by Mercedes and Tina (Rachel had wandered off somewhere suspiciously with Finn).

"Boo?"

Kurt looked at Mercedes.

"I'm sorry if we've been going on about this Blaine kid and all – it's only that he's really hot (which is kind of distracting) and he's gay, and we know how much you want a boyfriend and romance and stuff."

"Can't you see, 'Cedes? He's straight. And a complete asshole." _And incredibly hot_, he added to himself. "Somehow I don't see him doing romance for a girlfriend, let alone boyfriend."

"Kurt, he turned down Santana. _Santana. _If that doesn't say something then I don't know what does. Not to mention he's been fending off the _Cheerios_, telling them they're not his type."

"Well, even if he is gay, I'm sure he's not interested in me. And don't worry - it's okay, what are my best friends for apart from the merciless teasing we all seem to dish out?" Kurt closed the conversation with a grin.

"That was so boring. Remind me why you made me stay back Kurt?" Rachel whined as they walked out to the parking lots.

"Because, in case you forgot, you volunteered to keep me company because Finn's lost his house keys, borrowed mine, lost mine and then Dad took the spare in order to get Finn some new ones cut-"

Rachel nodded and then hugged him, apologising for moaning at him, saying she was a bit preoccupied at the moment. Kurt knew how nervous she was feeling about college applications at the end of the year (although it was early, they had already begun researching the various schools that would be available to them in New York, and to be honest it had unnerved him a bit too) and simply hugged her back tightly.

"Everyone seems to be asking for my forgiveness today," Kurt smiled before turning to hug Tina goodbye.

Calling one final goodbye to the girls, he crossed the lots and climbed into his old Navigator.

* * *

It was several hours later, and Kurt was lying on his bed, flicking through an old copy of Vogue distractedly. He hadn't seen Blaine at all after the hallway incident and he couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. His eyes slid blindly off the glossy pages; his concentration levels were so low he wasn't taking in a single word. Images of the sexy jerk were spamming his brain, no matter how hard he pushed them away. _Which was bad,_ Kurt thought. _Because if I can't even focus on one of my favourite editions of Vogue, one day after meeting this guy, then that means he's already got to me. I've only had about two conversations with him, both ending in me annoyed in some way or another and confused. It's just because I've never met a boy before who has real potential in the gay department and he's sexy. Like, so so sexy. It'll pass over-_

Kurt looked up at his buzzing phone and, internally pleading the vibration not be warning him of a Rachel-text, picked it up.

**From Unknown number**

Surprised, Kurt opened the text, assuming it was from a company trying to sell him some random crap. Woah... it couldn't be, could it?

**Hey babe.**

Babe, seriously? Kurt thought about it before typing out a reply.

_**Is this who I think it is?**_

**From Unknown number**

**Depends on who that is, Hummel.**

You had got to be kidding him, how the hell did he get his number? Unless it wasn't, and he was just getting over worked up on the boy. Thinking that he'd probably regret this in a minute, he sent out another message.

_**Blaine?**_

**From Unknown number**

**Got it in one babe. **

_**How the hell did you get my number?**_

Kurt found himself mentally noting the fact that Blaine was writing in complete words rather than the usual jumbled knot of letters he received from Finn. Something he found irritatingly attractive, as far as a text could get, anyway.

**From Unknown number**

That was going to get annoying. He quickly added Blaine to his contacts list, before realising fully that this was _Blaine_. His heart gave a little flutter before he wearily stilled it. Blaine, right. The still undetermined possibly gay jerk who had got him two weeks detention on the first day.

**Your phone was hanging out your pocket first period. Didn't want to miss the opportunity, as I figured you're going to play hard to get. How am I meant to sext you without your number babe?**

Sext him? God. Kurt blushed even though there was no one around. He was pretty sure this conversation confirmed gay.

_**Any particular reason for this spontaneous conversation with a guy you barely know?**_

Kurt hovered his finger over send, but then deleting it, thinking it sounded too flirty. Cause he was not under ANY circumstances going to flirt with Blaine. He settled with;

_**Cut it out Anderson. Get to the point.**_

A bit (oh who was he kidding, a lot) bitchy, but it would do. Plus, he didn't want to encourage Blaine.

**From Blaine**

**Assertive-Hummel? I like it. **Kurt could see him smirking lewdly in his mind's eye. **Just enjoying making you blush babe. **

Kurt groaned as he felt colour flush into his cheeks once again. Well, he could just arrange the date tfor them to start the first part of the project, couldn't he...? Nothing wrong with that.

_**I'll meet you in the library**_

Kurt typed and hastily sent before realising how it sounded.. oh god, why did he have to mess up now?

_**For the PROJECT! I didn't mean, well, ugh! For the project.**_

**From Blaine**

**Which project would that be babe? I'm thinking of a few I'm sure you'd enjoy... in the library as well? Daring for a first timer babe**

What was wrong with this boy? Who was definitely gay; Kurt couldn't try to persuade himself to deny it anymore.

_**You know what I mean! Why do you have to be so... The ENGLISH project. In fact it's okay, I'll do it, I'm not getting a D or something because you decided to screw it up.**_

**From Blaine**

**Judged already, am I? I'm not some dumbass like you seem to think babe. The only reason Dalton kept me as long as they did was because of the As. I can't go in the library anyway so it'll have to be yours or mine. **

He couldn't have Blaine in his house – he could not let Burt and Blaine cross paths, of that he was sure. He dreaded to think what Blaine could potentially say to his Dad.

_**I'm not letting you in my house Anderson; don't get your hopes up. Why can't you... Doesn't matter. I'll go to yours after school and we can start this thing. Project.**_

There. Minimal potential for innuendoes and he couldn't detect any flirting. Well, not much anyway.

**From Blaine**

**Sure babe. Knew you couldn't resist a visit to my bedroom.**

Kurt decided that that didn't even deserve a reply. Tossing his phone onto the Dior grey stool by his vanity, he flung himself down onto his bed. He was going to _Blaine Anderson's_ house to work on a _project _and he was now ninety nine point nine percent sure that the new kid was gay. And had been flirting with him. He'd only known him for one freaking day, for goodness' sake. For once not caring about his hair, Kurt shoved his head into his pillow and screamed in frustration. If Blaine freaking Anderson hadn't freaking pick pocketed his phone this morning he wouldn't be in this stupid position.

He had to decide what to wear. Right now.

* * *

**A/N Still not very long, but it's an improvement! At risk of sounding totally dependent on reviews here, but... please? I'll love you forever and ever :) xxx **


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N Hey guys! Sorry I took so long to update; I was totally planning on updating on Thursday, which obviously didn't happen, but I have no decent excuses to be honest. Sorry again! And OMG, thanks reviewers - ten reviews! My heart literally almost exploded. In a good way. **

**Anyway, here's chapter 4, I hope you enjoy it and I hope it's okay. This is turning out so much angsti...er (?) than I intended! I'm hoping that soon I'll be adding some fluff, but knowing me, anything could happen! Thanks so much for reading :) **

**D/C I don't own glee (do I have to put this everytime?) :D**

* * *

It was the second to last lesson of the day, and Kurt was getting antsy. All day he'd managed to successfully avoid Blaine, except at lunch when he'd accidentally started staring at him from across the cafeteria, only realising what he was doing when the boy winked at him. He'd hurriedly looked away, trying to engage himself in Rachel's conversation with Finn, even though he had no idea what they were discussing. Blaine had been sitting at a table with the jocks, much to Kurt's dismay, and had had a constant stream of Cheerios swishing over to him in their tiny skirts, flicking their hair and generally making Kurt have to bottle up the desire to throttle each and every one of them. The worst part was that Blaine appeared to be flirting back at them, if the he was judging by the way some of them were practically sitting in his lap, simpering. The background noise of Rachel was enough to stoke his murderous urges (she was one of his best friends, but there was only so much Rachel one could take – how Finn managed it he still had no idea), so he'd left the cafeteria, dithering around by his locker until it was time to go.

He'd made another two lessons containing Blaine, suppressing the green-eyed monster that reared its head when he saw Blaine being checked out by members of McKinley's female population. By his reckoning, Blaine was bi, but he wasn't making assumption and getting his hopes up.

These were the least of his worries though; next he had English. The lesson he not only shared with Blaine, but sat next to him in. No avoiding him there then.

It wasn't like Kurt could avoid him for the whole day – they'd arranged to do their project – but he had needed the space to calm down and stop psyching him self up over the fact that he was going to Blaine's house. He had admitted to himself that he was very attracted to Blaine; there was no point in continuing to deny it. His solid four hours hunting out the tightest jeans in his wardrobe had proved that. But despite the fact that he liked the guy, he was still agonising over Blaine's obvious lack of romantic interest. As far as he could tell from his subtle gathering of information from his thankfully very gossipy girlfriends and the way he had been flirting with apparently everyone in the school, Blaine was the sort of person who hooked up. And his conversation with him last night had also established this opinion in Kurt's mind.

Kurt was determined that he wouldn't give in – he wanted romance and rom-com-esque clichés and someone to fall in love with. He wasn't about to let anyone, not even someone as sexy as the new bad boy, to take these away from him. But Blaine was really threatening his resolve, just by being there. They hadn't even spoken today yet.

* * *

After the bell went, Kurt met up with Mercedes outside his English room and greeted her quietly, before hurrying into the room. He definitely wanted to get there before Blaine did, because he didn't want to draw Blaine's attention to him immediately. Of course that was impossible.

"Hey beautiful," Blaine approached the desk confidently, a good six minutes late, swinging his bag onto the back of his chair and dropping neatly into the seat. Leaning back, he tilted his chair slowly onto its back two legs and rolled his shoulders back, before snapping it back onto all fours.

A little shell-shocked by his sudden and energetic entrance, Kurt briefly wondered why Blaine was so damned hot all of the time.

"I told you to stop calling me that, Blaine."

"No you didn't, you said to stop saying babe, babe."

Blaine was acting oddly childish and really obnoxious, but Kurt was finding it hard to sound pissed.

"You could try calling me Kurt?"

"No chance, Hummel."

"Well stick with no name then." Kurt was starting to slip back into his usual quick-to-reply mind set, to his intense relief. Not looking at the other boy was working wonders.

"Sure babe."

Internally screaming, Kurt muttered, "Prick." Hearing Blaine's low chuckle, he realised he'd probably heard him and coloured up slightly.

The next twenty five minutes of the lesson passed in silence because after totally ignoring Mr Roger's lecture, Blaine had finished whatever assignment he'd been passed in ten short minutes and started using a penknife to gouge a crude drawing onto the desk. The teacher didn't seem to notice, so the first half of the lesson remained uneventful.

It was just after the middle of the lesson when Kurt felt something brush his ankle. He glanced down, and then noticed Blaine's smirk in his peripheral vision. Turning back to his work, which he had no idea how the hell Blaine had finished it so quickly (to low quality, he assumed), Kurt frowned. This time he felt another leg tangle with his own.

"Stop it!" Kurt hissed.

The foot started to rub the inside of his calf and it was causing him some serious problems concentrating due to the lack of blood in his head. It was all migrating south.

"Why babe, I know you like it..."

Meeting Blaine's eyes with his most resolute bitch face, he disentangled his leg and shuffled his chair away from Blaine, ignoring the way his mind was screaming at him to start eating Blaine's face. He ignored the slightly darker shadow that had filled Blaine's eyes and muttered, "You have no idea what I like and don't like and so far you've been fitting in the latter far more comfortably."

Attitude-wise, this was perfectly true about the boy, but his body was ignoring his mind and he knew Blaine could tell.

"If you say so, Hummel. That hard-on you've got there disagrees with you though-"

"-Blaine!" Kurt whispered forcefully, crossing his legs, embarrassed. "Just, I don't know, stop talking?"

"Sure, babe, anything for you." Blaine twisted up the corner of his mouth into a slight leer before turning around and lapsing into a silence that lasted approximately two seconds.

Click. Click. Clic-ic-ick. Click.

Frustrated, Kurt slowly rotated his head until he was looking at Blaine. The boy was doodling mindlessly on his paper with one hand, the other hand fiddling with a flap on his scarred leather jacket. Trying to work out the source of the clicking, he tried to nonchalantly look under the table. While the erratic rhythm was really irritating, he found its source pretty intriguing. Especially as it had something to do with a certain mysterious new boy. Blaine's converse clad feet were resting still on the wooden bridge that ran across the back legs of the desk. Still confused, he looked up at the boys face through his eyelashes, and he couldn't help but melt slightly. With no one looking, his face was fractionally softer, and there was an almost endearing expression of concentration on his perfect face. His triangular eyebrows were pulled down low over his pure, bronze irises, and a lock of dark hair was falling over his eye, escaping from the mass of curls on top of his head. Seeing Blaine looking so..._innocent_, Kurt thought, surprised, made his heart beat faster in his chest. His eyes strayed downwards, resting on his chapped but full lips. Oh. Blaine seemed to be clicking a piercing inside his mouth onto the backs of his teeth, from the slight shifting of muscles Kurt could see. _Of course Blaine has a tongue piercing. And of course it turns me on ridiculously, even though I've always found excessive piercings unattractive... Well Blaine Anderson, it seems you've changed my mind. _Kurt felt silly talking to Blaine in his head, so stopped abruptly.

Blaine popped the piercing out of his mouth for a second before pulling it back in, face clearly showing walls being thrown up. He locked eyes with Kurt, smiling teasingly as he repeated the action with smouldering eyes.

Flushing, Kurt tried to settle his gaze on his work, re-crossing his legs and trying to adjust himself without drawing attention to his problem. He'd worn a knee-length sweater today (even though he knew it would counter the effect of his best white jeans on his ass), due to obvious concerns, but he was pretty sure it would have no effect hiding it from Blaine.

As the end of the lesson loomed, he felt Blaine's leg resume its explorations under the table. Kicking it away, he shrunk further towards the edge of the desk, not trusting himself to remain that close the Blaine.

"What the-" he yelped quietly, staring at the table to avoid making eye contact with his disturbed teacher. His chair had been quickly pulled back towards Blaine.

"I know you don't mind it really," smirked the..._did he class as a jock now (?)_, before pulling him close so their thighs touched from top to bottom.

"Are you kidding me?" Kurt asked, tugging Blaine's grip on his hip loose and sidling away. "Don't you understand the word stop? S, T, O, P?"

"I do babe, and I would if you wanted it, but don't think you can hide the fact that you enjoy this as much as I do."

"...okay. Well I'm asking you to stop touching me, because I hardly know you and it makes me uncomfortable-"

"-I can see that-"

"- and I'd really appreciate you shutting up."

A flash of hurt so brief Kurt assumed he must have imagined it flitted across Blaine's features before it was replaced by his familiar one-corner-mouth-tilt.

"You still up for coming over then babe? To do our 'project'?" Blaine said, a slight change washing over his face.

"I guess," Kurt said, nerves threatening to make his voice quiver, "Straight after this lesson?"

"Yup," Blaine said loudly, causing a ripple of disturbance to claim Mr Roger's attention in the quietly chattering classroom.

* * *

Kurt had to endure two more attempts from Blaine to stroke his inner leg. Thankfully the bell went and Kurt had an excuse to jump up and pack away his stuff; a welcome way to distract his straying eyes. Blaine strutted out of the room, swinging his bag over his shoulder in a way Kurt was starting to find familiar – he'd done the exact same thing every lesson they'd shared so far – leaving Kurt to hurry after him. Taking a quick right down the corridor leading to the boy's sports changing rooms, he followed the head of unruly brown hair down the corridor, watching as the student body split to accommodate the new guy. He'd made quite a start to the year.

Blaine stopped in front of a locker, pulled out a piece of wire, picked the lock in a tenth of the time it took Kurt to open his own and pulled out a worn set of keys.

"You coming then Hummel?" Blaine asked, walking past him down the corridor, blatant laughter shining in his eyes. "Or probably later, I'd say."

Kurt took a moment to work out what he'd said, and then sent him a disparaging look and fell into step with him. They walked in tense silence down to the parking lots, Kurt making sure to keep a good metre in between their bodies. He didn't want a repeat of last time they walked down the corridors; memories of Blaine trying to sneak his hand into his back pockets had kept him awake last night.

Kurt almost hugged his Navigator when they reached it, diving in and shoving the key into the ignition.

"Are you..." Kurt gestured to the passenger seat.

"Nah, I've gotta take my bike. You can follow me babe, you'll have a good rear view."

Ignoring the final comment, Kurt nodded his assent and then manoeuvred his way out of the space. He scanned the concrete expanse, until he spotted Blaine swinging his leg over a rusty motorcycle, his jacket separating him from the crowd of students leaving the school building. To his surprise, Blaine signalled to him as he revved the bike and drove out of the gates, ignoring the admiring stares he was receiving. Kurt followed him quickly.

They drove through the town for a while, Blaine leading him towards a slightly rougher looking area Kurt didn't recognise. They wound down a few streets, before turning up at a small, worn looking double-story house. There was an old car parked outside.

He stopped his vehicle, and was about to climb out when he saw Blaine's face. Horror and what Kurt thought was...fear? The sound of his door clicking open seemed to wake Blaine from his thoughts.

"Fuck." Blaine's voice was harsh and almost silent. Kurt was sure he wasn't meant to hear that, but the tone of his voice was nothing compared to the expression on his face. It was a turmoil of emotions, all barely suppressed. "I'm sorry Kurt, you have to go now." His eyes were swirling with clear anxiety.

"Are you oka-"

"Yes, goddammit, but you need to leave. Now."

Hearing the urgency in his voice, Kurt climbed back into his car. He couldn't help but feel worried about the boy, so he said quickly, "I'll text you later."

He set his car into gear, concerned and then slowly drove off. He turned the corner of the road, but not before he saw Blaine wipe a tear from his face. Something was wrong, badly wrong, but Kurt knew going back now would help nothing. Seeing Blaine's moment of weakness had given him a surge of compassion. There was something Blaine was hiding. And he was going to find out what.

* * *

**A/N My ''Horizontal Line'' placing is really unreliable, so just ignore them if they don't make sense :) I realise that in my last chapter's authors note, I forgot to offer klainebows to reviewers *shock, horror* so I'm offering double the number this time! *hopeful look* That's my elaborate way of saying ''please review''! They seriously make my day! xxxxxxxxxx Thanks for reading :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N Hello again :) So I managed to update, fairly quickly (kinda proud of myself :D)... here it is! Errm... strong language warnings, I guess. **

**I thought I'd try adding some Blaine POV, I'd like to know what you think...?**

**D/C I don't own glee.**

* * *

Blaine's heart stopped when he saw the battered old car. Kurt couldn't be here now.

"Fuck." He muttered under his breath, more to himself than Kurt. "I'm sorry Kurt, you have to go now." He lifted his eyes to the naïve looking boy's, trying to transmit his urgency. He knew his voice would give him away; hopefully Kurt would just listen to him. He should've been harsher; at least an offended Kurt would follow his instructions.

"Are you oka-" Kurt started softly.

"Yes, goddammit, but you need to leave. Now." Blaine winced internally at the fire in his voice. It was nothing like the inferno of emotions that were filling him inside, though. He felt awful at the flash of hurt that flitted across the stormy grey eyes that were locked with his own. Seeing resolution steel itself in Kurt's face, he watched Kurt turn and climb back into his car. He knew he hadn't heard the end of this.

"I'll text you later."

Blaine looked up, shocked. There was tentative warmth to his voice, mixed with concern. _Why? He can't care about me, I've only been an ass to him. I hardly know him. 'Long enough to get a crush on him,_ a rebelling part of his brain said. _A fucking crush. Like a little girl. You're just a useless girl, Blaine. A little faggot.'_ Angrily shoving his father's voice out of his head, he wiped the single tear that had escaped him off his cheek with his sleeve. He had to stop this weakness before he attempted to deal with this problem.

Now that Kurt had gone he was left with the choice. Go in, or drive around all night. Little as he liked it, he had to take the former. He couldn't just drive around; he could hardly afford petrol to bike to school once a week, let alone wasting it because he was a coward.

He crept around the back of the run-down house, and wheeled his vehicle through the hole in the wooden boards that tore open the back wall. He locked it to the bar he'd fixed into the empty room. It had taken him almost two months to earn enough money to buy that little lock, and it was starting to wear thanks to a year and a half of use. It was still silent, unnaturally so, but he decided not to take any chances, and climbed up the cracked drainpipe that ran up the rear of the house. He clambered through the window frame, tugged a tarpaulin across the open window and collapsed on the bed. He didn't bother glancing around, he'd stopped doing that a year ago, when he'd realized that this shithole he was living in really was a metaphor for his life. No longer simply fraying around the edges; falling to pieces snd raining down around him.

Checking the small set of drawers that served to lock his door in place were firmly doing their job, Blaine kicked off his battered shoes and stretched his crushed feet.

If the car outside meant what he thought it did, his father was home. And because it was so quiet, he had to assume he was passed out drunk; an improvement on other possible scenarios. With any luck, Blaine could sneak out in the morning before he became conscious. Presuming he was in fact drunk.

His father hadn't been home in months, and he'd finally started to get used to it. He much preferred independency to the alternative.

There was nothing he could do more tonight, except homework or read. And there was no way in hell he was doing homework. He wouldn't be able to focus, plus he didn't actually intend on doing any. Except maybe that project he had with Kurt. _Hummel_, he corrected himself.

Tossing aside the jacket he wore and the attitude he kept with it, he crawled under the thin blankets and groped around for his dog-eared copy of Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone. Flipping through it to a random page, Blaine started to read, relaxing and losing himself amongst the familiar lines.

* * *

Kurt was alone in the house; Rachel and Finn were at the Berry's house, his Dad was still at the garage and Carole… He didn't know where she was but she was probably at the hospital or something. Her nursing hours changed so regularly he could never keep up. He was sitting staring at his phone. As he had been for several hours. He couldn't help but feel as though he shouldn't have left Blaine in the state he had been in when Kurt had obeyed him and driven away. And when he'd told him to leave, he'd been so intense it had scared Kurt, not to mention hurt him. Odd though it may seem, the thing that worried him most was the fact that Blaine had called him 'Kurt'. _Whatever had affected him so much actually made him drop his attitude and proved my theory that it was all just a façade. I said I'd text him, but I don't know what to say…ugh! We're not even friends and now he's going to think I'm being weird and… _Kurt was shocked by how worried he was about Blaine – the Blaine he'd seen hours ago was completely different to the lewd boy he'd met the day before. It was bothering him that Blaine had looked so scared. _I have to find what's wrong with him. But first I have to know if he is okay. That look on his face…_

Putting aside his concerns about Blaine judging him, Kurt slid his finger up the screen and unlocked it. He opened a new message and then looked expectantly at his typing finger. Unsurprisingly, it didn't tap out the perfect message that would be non-awkward and generally perfect for the situation. He glared at his unhelpful finger and then debated what to put. Finally, he settled with-

_**Blaine, I said I'd text you, so are you okay? You don't have to reply, but I'm here if you need to talk.**_

Momentarily hesitating, he rescanned through the cold little black letters. _Maybe Blaine will think I'm being weird. After all, we hardly know each other._ _We can't be classed as friends, I suppose; until now I didn't really want to know him all that well. He just looked so…lost, I suppose. _In all honesty, he just wanted to go over to Blaine's house and give him a hug. Regardless of the fact they only met yesterday, as he kept reminding himself. Despite the briefness of their acquaintance, Kurt still felt he knew Blaine now better than the jocks he was currently hanging around with; after witnessing his moment of weakness and the collapse of the walls he boxed himself up in.

Breathing in deeply, Kurt pressed send. He watched the blue bar on his screen fill up, and then closed the little 'message sent' icon. He'd done it.

Now he realized he had no idea what to fill the rest of his night with. He settled with watching a film; he could his homework in the library tomorrow, there was no way he could concentrate with the way his mind was buzzing. He slipped the first DVD he found into the TV and switched it on, flopping back against the white washed headboard.

* * *

Bang.

Blaine awoke with a start. Dammit. He'd fallen asleep on his book, fully dressed.

"I know you're in there, you little-"

_Fuck, fuck, fuck… _Blaine recited in his head. Obviously his dear father was awake.

Bang. Bang.

"Open this door now, Blaine." It came out in a jumble of drunken nonsense.

He massaged his temple before standing up and reaching across to his door and removing the blockage he had put up. As appealing as the thought of refusing his father entrance was, he knew from experience that it would just make him angrier the next time he came back. The door slammed open and Blaine walked back to sit on his bed, quivering with anticipation.

He looked up, maintaining his silence. He knew the only reasons his father ever bothered coming back were so that he could hit something or because he was drunk and his second wife wouldn't let him in the flat. Clearly this was the latter, but he knew this would no doubt entail a bit of the first as well. He could only hope that it would only be a bit.

In one hand his father was clutching a beer bottle, and in Blaine's only other pair of shoes. Which he promptly chucked across the room.

"I thought I told you to keep your faggot little ass up here in your room." His father slurred his words together.

"Sorry sir." Blaine tried to keep his voice meek, not wanting to spark anything. His father was a pretty reactive drunk. He slowly went and picked them up, feeling his father's gaze on his back the whole time. "I didn't mean to leave them down-"

"'Sorry sir,'" He mocked Blaine's voice cruelly in a high falsetto. "For fuck's sake boy, have you got no fire in you? You need to grow a pair and stop spreading your diseased ass round this house! You need to end this stupid phase, your not a stupid faggot and the long you mess around-" His father was screaming now.

He felt all of the bottled up emotion in his head suddenly explode and he yelled back at the man he hated so much standing before him. "Just fuck off! I'm better without you here, and can you just get over yourself! I'm gay, gay, gay! It's not just a phase, it's who I am and if you don't like it then I wish you'd just stay the fuck out of my life! Mom wouldn't have cared and you should just-" His voice just disappeared when he saw the murderous look on his father's face. It was one he recognized well. Mentioning his mother had never ended well for him but he had no filter when he was worked up, something he had been working on.

"You little faggot. You don't even know your own mo-" His father's favourite description of him caused him no shock now.

In a feeble attempt to escape his approaching father, he backed into the corner of the room. To no avail.

* * *

Kurt had been cradling his phone in his lap again. The only thing he'd done since sending the text was yell when he heard Finn come home that he'd left a grilled cheese sandwich in the fridge (Finn was always hungry, and today Kurt couldn't take him coming down bored, whining about his stomach). Other than that, he'd just stared at his cell. He had pretty much no idea what he was watching; it was just background noise.

Blaine wasn't replying. _Of course he isn't, you put 'you don't have to reply' in the freaking text, remember? And why would he, he obviously didn't want you to know what's going on, otherwise he wouldn't have told you to go. _He'd been debating Blaine's lack of an answer continuously, going around in circles. He knew that Blaine's phone could have run out of battery, or he could just have chosen not to answer, but he was positive it was something more. Family issues or something, perhaps homophobic parents he didn't want Kurt to meet? That wouldn't explain the pure fear he seen a snapshot of, though. He remembered the state of the little house they'd stopped in front of and deflated. His overwhelming desire to help the clearly conflicted boy was surprising him. Sort of. Yes, he had a crush on him, probably since the moment he'd met him, but now he wanted to be there for him, not just in the unfeasible romantic way, but as a friend. He'd noticed at school that while he fist-bumped jocks and flirted with other pupils, Blaine hadn't actually seemed to be having casual conversations with anyone. Usually the new kid would be taken under someone's wing, but Blaine had just made his way up to the top within two days, alone. Kurt remembered with a small smile Rachel saying "It's lonely at the top." In Blaine's case, it certainly was. It was obviously through choice; the football jocks were clearly trying to recruit him in a clear case of 'if you can't beat 'em, join 'em.' He had been threatening their superiority at the school – he'd already attracted the attention of the Cheerios and his had already taken up the title of McKinley's main badass from Puck.

He could tell Blaine wasn't happy though, and he wanted to help. All he could do now was hope Blaine would reply.

* * *

**A/N Thanks for reading :) I'm hoping to update soon, but... I don't know. Review...? xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N Hey guys... I updated in case you didn't notice! Errrm. I hope this is okay cause I think it might be a bit confusingly written. Give me a heads up if you don't follow it cause I think I might need to change it! Thanks xxx **

**The horizontal lines mark POV changes. I hope. **

**Text formatting goes like this at the moment - _Kurt  
_ - Blaine/OC**

**D/C I don't own glee...**

* * *

Brrrr. Brrrr.

Brrrr. Brrrr.

Blaine swatted at the noise, trying to stop it splitting his head in half. He groaned as it stopped, and then curled up tighter, willing the icy numbness to consume him again.

* * *

Kurt had waited until ten for an answer, half watching a pile of Disney films and berating himself for caring so damn much. '_He's probably just not answering Kurt, you forget that he's popular; why would he want to talk to you?_' and other such thoughts had been running around his head, but in his heart he knew that there was something more. He'd fallen asleep fully clothed to his horror and had slept in the next day, causing him to be late for school. He'd just pulled into his usual slot and climbed out his car.

_**Why didn't you wake me?**_

He sent the message to Finn, his satchel swinging on his shoulder as he made his way across the parking lot, now empty except for a few fellow late-comers.

**From Finn**

**Soz dude! Rach ws w8ing 4 me, sohad 2 go at 8or sumthing. **

Kurt sighed, wishing Finn didn't send him a pile of text slang, unlike Blaine. _That reminds me, _Kurt thought, pulling out his timetable. Yup, there it was; AP English, period five. And then no more for the rest of the week.

He stopped by the reception and picked up a late slip, then headed wearily to his first lesson.

Six hours and forty eight minutes had taken an awfully long time to pass. Kurt was now sitting in English, alone on the back desk. He was hyperaware of the emptiness of the seat next to him. Although he was loathe admitting it, and although it was only his third English lesson of the year, he was kind of missing the jerky behaviour of the boy who sat next to him. At least Blaine had acknowledged him. He was used to, in seating plan lessons, being stuck with someone who was clearly disgusted by him, was scared he might make them gay or bullied him. It had been a different, not-actually-as-bad-as-it-had-originally-seemed experience. He had sort of started to get used to Blaine's attention. Even if it was seriously annoying. He kept finding out new stuff about Blaine and he _had_ found it interesting - his tongue ring especially, even though he wouldn't admit how appealling he found it. Last night, however, Blaine's life (which had seemed pretty shallow before to Kurt) had become much more confusing. Now it was worrying him and kept him agitated in his lessons, any school issues paling next to the distraction. He'd been distant with his friends all day, even when they were making an effort to involve them in the conversations. He'd been fobbing them off with one word answers.

Now, he was sitting there alone, watching Mercedes and Rachel chatting, smiling on cue when Mercedes turned around to prompt him with a hopeful smile.

He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.

* * *

Brrrr. Brrrr.

Brrrr. Brrrr.

Blaine stirred again, this time attempting to unstick his eyelids. They painfully withdrew, only to allow his eyes to be burnt by the harsh light that was sneaking in. He released a small whimper of pain as he rolled across the floor, something sharp digging into his back. Blaine let out another small whine and dragged his worn body into a sitting position. His ribs throbbed hotly.

_My life is such a fuck up._ His brain felt woolly and suppressed; there was a dull ache spreading across the bottom of his jaw, meeting with the equally painful tenderness on the back of his skull.

_Exactly what I need. Concussion. _He'd had the symptoms enough to be perfectly capable of diagnosing himself.

Brrrr. Brrrr.

Brrrr. Brrrr.

The noise echoed around in his head, making his ears buzz uncomfortably. Blaine braced himself for the light and cracked open his eye again. He tried to open the other, but felt swelling preventing him.

_Where the fuck is my phone?_ Having finally realised what the source of the sound must be, he started to scan the room from his place in the corner. This had to be the first time it had gone off in months. _Cause who is fucking texting me, no one has my number do they? _He fought with his fumbling brain for a minute, then realised who it had to be. _Kurt. It can't be Wes or David and that lot. They gave up on me when they worked out what a fuck up I am. _Blaine knew that this was unfair. They'd kept trying to contact him since he left Westerville. He was the one who gave up.

Wincing slowly, he pushed himself onto his knees and cradled his wrist. He couldn't exactly recall what had happened apart from pain, lots of verbal abuse that to be honest, he didn't want to remember, and more blame. How it was his fault his mother died. He didn't have to cause her that heart attack. It was his fault.

Another burning dagger lanced down his arm, pulling him back out of his daze.

Blaine slowly made his way across the room, avoiding what appeared to be the remains of a beer bottle. _That brings back a few memories,_ Blaine thought bitterly. He groped around in the inside pocket of his jacket with his good hand. He pulled out a blurry black object. His ancient, crappy phone. Just like everything else in his life. _Well, maybe not everything._ He thought briefly of Kurt's worried face and smiled softly. His smile faded as he remembered he didn't do this. _I don't get close to people. It never ends well._

Brrrr. Brrrr.

Brrrr. Brrrr.

Once again having to drag himself out of thought, Blaine pressed a button on the scuffed case. The background was a picture of him and his Dalton friends, but he couldn't see it; the screen was too bright. Concentrating his thin strip of vision, he focussed on the alert box.

_**From Kurt **_

The headache gracing his forehead was starting to seep into all of the numb areas of his head.

He pressed enter with his thumb and read through the message briefly.

_**Blaine, I said I'd text you, so are you okay? You don't have to reply, but I'm here if you need to talk.**_

He felt a little warmth at the fuzzy words, realizing with dark amusement that in that short message there was probably more care than he'd received ever since his father had started to drink heavily. Hell, probably since his mother died.

Forcing himself to continue looking at the screen through his eye, he looked at the time. 2.37pm. He'd been out too long, but that couldn't be helped.

He had no idea how to reply. He didn't want to ignore the text though. Sighing, he tried to control his urge to just slip away for a tiny bit longer. Hoping his fingers were pressing the right buttons, he slowly and tentatively pushed in a message in his 'school persona', hitting what he assumed was send. He let the device slide out of a weak grasp and then allowed unconsciousness to swallow him.

* * *

Kurt eased the iPhone from his pocket. These jeans were so freaking tight. _It could be Blaine, it could be Blaine, it could be Blaine…_

Finally, after a struggle, he managed to procure his phone from the pocket. He flicked the screen to unlock it and then stared at it for a minute.

**From Blaine A**

Wow. It actually was Blaine. _Thank God. If he's replying it means he isn't gonna completely cut me off after last night._

He quickly pressed the "open message" button and looked at the open message.

**Hffy bae don't worry yous prettx litle hed bout me. Stil up for tht project?**

_Okaaaay._ So he still had his attitude, but that looked like a severe case of drunk-texting. And something didn't seem right – sure it was Blaine, and he didn't seem the type to just put 'I'm okay', but he hadn't actually confirmed it. Kurt couldn't shake off the feeling that Blaine wasn't okay. If he was drunk, then why hadn't he replied for a whole freaking day? And why the hell was he out drunk, instead of at school?

He replied then shoved his phone back in his pocket, unsatisfied with Blaine's response.

"Yeah, I think they're dating, I'm not sure..." Kurt allowed himself to get sucked into his friends' conversation for the last leg of the monotonous lesson.

When he got home he went straight up to his room to work on his 'new year' solo for glee, ignoring his father's questioning look. He knew he looked a mess. But, for the first time in forever, he didn't care; all he really needed was a distraction right now.

* * *

Blaine was unconscious for another nine hours before he finally pulled himself out of his deep prolonged slumber. He knew that he couldn't let himself fall asleep again soon; he had concussion for god's sake. Now his head had cleared slightly, he could feel pain. A lot of pain; in his neck, his wrist, his back... Pretty much everywhere. Every slight movement caused him intense pain in his left side.

His phone was vibrating again.

His vision had cleared in the one eye, and the swollen one was now allowing him a blurry slit of sight. He took that as a good sign. Carefully extracting his phone, he turned the screen on. Thank god he could read the keypad properly now.

_**From Kurt **_

_**Yes, tell me when/ where you want to meet. Are you sure you're okay? You're not drunk are you...?**_

The corner of his mouth twitched. Punch-drunk more like. He kind of wanted to just explain everything to Kurt. Everything; just let it out. The beautiful boy made him just want to flush all of the pain out of his system. _But,_ he reminded himself, _Blaine Anderson's life rule number one; don't get attached. Well, I guess I'm kind of already attached, but I just wanna fuck him...sure. Try and fool everyone else but you can't fool yourself. Brilliant. I'm talking to myself now. Again. _

* * *

**From Blaine A**

**Yeah, I'm just sick. I'll be off until Friday babe. How's Friday, at your place?**

It was 11.30 when Kurt woke up to a vibrating phone. _I didn't, did I? Oh crap. I fell asleep waiting for a reply. Dammit. I swore that I wouldn't kill myself over this boy._

_**Sure. **_Blaine at his house...? As long as they didn't run into Burt. _**I've got glee rehearsal though...? **_He pressed send.

Kurt didn't buy Blaine's 'I'm sick' excuse (how the hell would he know when he'd be back?), but what was it to him if Blaine bunked off? _Nothing. But what if something's happened... No. Nothings happened. And Blaine doesn't want to know you; the only reason you have this...relationship, no AQUAINTANCE is because if the stupid English project. Okay?_

**From Blaine A**

**Doesn't bother me babe, just another opportunity to admire that fine ass of yours. **

Kurt sighed, and then chucked his phone onto the dresser next to his bed. Blaine's objectifying comments no longer bothered him; secretly he sort of enjoyed being made to feel wanted like that. And it was nice to be told that he had an attractive rear end every once in a while. Sure Blaine had pretty much snuck in a comment in every conversation they'd had, but he honestly didn't mind any more. He curled up in his blanket, snuggling down into his pillow.

* * *

Blaine had kept awake and decided that he needed to assess his injuries. Most of the coordination loss from his concussion had gone, but he still had a killer headache. Which, mixed with his whole-body ache was making him feel completely shit. He was pretty sure from the lack of movement downstairs that his father was either passed out or gone. Preferably the latter.

Using his numb hand, he pushed himself up, gasping at the pressure on his ribs. In a few erratic jerky steps, he'd crossed the floor to the tiny bathroom that joined with his bedroom. His legs were starting to crumple beneath him, so he shoved through the peeling door and sat on the toilet. He leant back in relief, a sheen of sweat covering his forehead.

He really didn't want to look in the mirror.

He knew he had to, but it was just so hard.

His injuries could wait right? _I don't have to face it now..._

He looked.

_Well, shit. _There was no way he could get all that hidden by Friday.

* * *

**A/N Hope you enjoyed it... please review? Er, I hope it wasn't too confusing. I tried to make sure it was understandable, but could you let me know if it made sense? Thanks guys xxx less than three **


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N Hey guys, thanks so much for the reviews - 22! I held back from adding another hundred exclaimation marks :)**

**I'm glad you could follow the last chapter, thanks for telling me because I was worried it only made sense in my head!**

**On with the chapter!**

**D/C Glee is the property of FOX, not me :(**

* * *

Blaine ran a calloused finger over the swelling winding around the left of his face. _Ouch._ Half of his face was a dark purpling colour blending to a raw shiny red around his eye. He couldn't make out much through the swollen eye, just blurry shadows that made his head hurt. It was excruciatingly painful and he knew getting his contact lens out was going to be hell. The back of his head was throbbing and when he traced the contours of it with his finger he could feel an unpleasant stickiness he was all too familiar with.

A long, thin cut across his temple had scabbed leaving trickles of blood to weave through his eyebrows and accentuate the grooves of his face. There was some pale bruising around his neck that darkened when it reached between his now bare shoulder blades and followed the curve of his spine. A few pieces of brown glass were still digging into his flesh.

He let his hand fall and winced as he twisted his body round. That twinge he usually felt when he saw the state of his hip was worse now that he could see the mottled array of greens, blues and purples that were blossoming a few inches above it. _Cracked rib?_ From experience, he'd say it was only cracked, nothing too serious; he'd had worse.

Finally, he lifted his left hand and examined the damage. _Great choice in _being_ left-handed, Blaine. _As far as he could tell, it was just sprained – the main damage appeared to be the gaping slash that was littered with more of his father's beer bottle. It was still oozing – _no wonder I look so fucking pale._ Grimacing, Blaine plucked out each piece swiftly with as little thought as possible.

He let his legs give out again and sat down. Tentatively, Blaine reached out to grope under the broken floorboards. Swallowing a whimper, he pulled out a box and opened it. _Time to get creative._

* * *

Kurt spent the whole of Thursday trying to throw himself into his lessons as much as possible, and not think about the boy he barely knew. His eyes were invariably drawn towards the empty spaces at the back in the classes he shared with Blaine. During the register he started to fill the resounding silences after the boys name was called out with a "He's sick" in an emotionless monotone, ignoring the odd looks he was getting from Blaine's more popular new acquaintances. Like he wasn't 'cool' enough to associate with the newest 'bad boy'. He concentrated harder than he had since their exams last year; he was distracting himself with work. At lunch and break he excused himself from his friends and went and sat in the library.

That was where he was now, after school; he wanted to start dividing his and Blaine's work up before he left McKinley so that he wouldn't have to do it when he got home. School had been over about an hour.

"Hey Kurt!"

Kurt stiffened at the familiar voice. He'd kind of been pushing him away distantly since Tuesday and he hoped he hadn't hurt him.

"Hey Finn." Kurt spoke quietly. "Why're you still here?"

"Oh, I've been at weight-lifting, try-outs are next week for the football team. Coach Beiste wants us all to re-apply to join the team." A note of worry was clear in the tall boy's voice.

Turning around, Kurt smiled at his step-brother. "You'll be quarter-back again, Finn. You're the best in this school by far."

Finn's open face shone at the praise and he was greeted by a swift grin, before Finn pulled him into a hug. "Thanks dude. I needed to hear that."

Kurt squirmed out of his grip and thought about how far they'd come since last year. _Oh the awkward memories..._ A crush on Finn was something he was never going to revisit.

"Errm, Finn? I don't mean to be...but why are you here? Cause I'm kind of working."

"I can see that." Finn smirked at the two lines of writing on the page Kurt was holding. "Anyway, yeah, I need to talk to you dude-"

"What have I said about calling me dude...?"

"Um, don't? Back to the point, well us in glee, we're worried about you dude, you know. You're acting all weird and not there and sad and stuff. The team aren't giving you more shit are they, cause us guys-"

"I'm a guy Finn!"

"I know dude, let me finish! We'll sort 'em out if they're messing with you."

Kurt sighed at Finn's childish way of phrasing things. It was sort of endearing. "No more than usual, nothing to worry about. I'm fine."

"You will tell me if they try anything...?" Finn's brown eyes were filled with worry for his new brother.

"Of course, Finn," Kurt lied. "It's not that anyway."

"...Wait! So there is something up!"

_Crap._ Kurt cursed for his slip-up and Finn's inopportune decision to be smart. "No, there isn't and stop worrying; this is my life and I can sort out stuff too you know. If you don't mind, I'd like to keep working on this..." Kurt turned back towards the desk.

"Sorry dude. I'm just...it's, well you're like my little brother now Kurt, I can't help it. I guess I'll see you later dude, Burt and I are watching the match."

"M'kay." Kurt was trying to think of words to write down, but his brain wasn't co-operating.

Finn headed towards the exit.

"And Finn?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't call me dude!"

"Sure dude!"

Kurt groaned, and then felt a stab of déjà vu.

"_I told you to stop calling me that, Blaine."_

"_No you didn't, you said to stop saying babe, babe."_

"_You could try calling me Kurt?"_

"_No chance, Hummel."_

"_Well stick with no name then."_

"_Sure babe."_

He sighed deeply again, and gathered his stuff together. Hopefully driving would stop the stray thoughts. He didn't need to think about Blaine now, all it would cause him was extra stress. He could let that wait until tomorrow. Probably.

Kurt heard three hesitant knocks on his door.

"Come in."

Looking up, he saw his dad's head poke around the corner of his door.

"Hey bud!"

Kurt smiled at his dad and folded the October copy of Vogue he'd been flicking through with little concentration neatly. He glanced at the clock; 6.10pm.

"Hi Dad."

"I need to talk to you Kurt, Finn said that he's worried about you because of the football team or something, and-"

"I'm absolutely fine Dad, please don't worry about me. Think about your heart." Kurt cut him off. He felt like that was all he'd been saying all day. _I'm fine. Fine. Fine. _And it was a huge lie. His sides had been meeting with the lockers more regularly than usual, even if he hadn't been slushied. He was sick of the arrogant jocks treating him like dirt. Today he'd been at the receiving end of three shoves, and all he wanted to do when he thought about it was curl up and scream. Thinking about Blaine had been an almost welcome distraction at some points, until he remembered that tear rolling down the boy's cheek and the fire in his previously laid-back eyes. It was at that point when he'd pushed the gorgeous face from his mind.

"-Kurt?"

"Sorry Dad, what?" _Nice time to blank out Kurt._

"I was just saying that if there's anything up then I want you to come and talk to me, Kurt. I...I love you bud."

Kurt knew his father had never been particularly good with words, and he understood the depth and warmth within those simple words.

"Love you too, Dad."

* * *

"_No, Dad please! Please don't..."_

"_Disgusting, worthless little shit... waste... mistake... faggot... fault... blame..."_

_Pain crunched through his face like a shockwave. _

"_Argh... no, please, I'm sorry..."_

_Smack._

_Black. Numb. Cold._

Blaine shuddered awake, his forehead aching and burning. He stilled his shaking limbs and shoved the contorted quilt from around his upper body. Another flashback. He could almost remember everything that had happened now. Not that he wanted too, of course, but his sub-conscious had different ideas.

_Damn, I'm not meant to fall asleep. _The concussion was still surrounding his head in a buzzing fog, but the clarity of his senses was definitely improving. He flicked his phone with his less then well-co-ordinated right hand and looked at the time.

9.34pm. His body-clock was well and truly fucked up, but he had told Kurt, who he most certainly did not care about in the slightest, that he'd be at school tomorrow. _Guess it's settled then, if I can walk._

Last night, _or was it this morning, so confused...?_ he'dsorted himself out pretty well. The usual. The only thing he'd had trouble with as far as he was concerned was the potential rib fracture. He'd strapped himself up using the old bandages he'd reused so many times. It was a bit restrictive on his breathing, but he could still walk... that was all that mattered, or all that had mattered last time, and the time before. After a few practices of his no-limping walk, he would be fine going to school, though he had no idea why he didn't just stay off. _It's never bothered me before._ He was pretty sure his head was okay and he was just keeping his wrist still, the wound held closed by the cleaner of the two lengths of bandage.

Tomorrow, he was going to try his utmost to make sure everyone was too fucking scared of him to ask questions. And hopefully hook-up _cause that's all you want to do, remember? _with Kur-that Hummel kid with the amazing arse.

Before he fell asleep, he wanted to text the new person in his life who he would all too soon be pushing away, Kurt, not the object, the beautiful boy he knew would unfailingly reply. The boy he knew he was really falling in too deep with. And all they had was barely classifiable as a friendship, barely even a proper acquaintance. _Is a winky face too out of character...? Fuck it, who cares anyway?_

* * *

**From Blaine A**

**See ya tomorrow babe ;)**

Kurt smiled sleepily at his phone.

* * *

_**From Kurt**_

_**See you, Blaine :) **_

Blaine fell asleep clutching his phone like a lifeline.

* * *

**A/N After I wrote this, I realised that the ending is slightly fluff-angst, rather than my usual angst. It now officially has five lines of fluff in guys! Review = klainebows and happiness :) xxxxxx **


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N Hey guys :) I updated... fast! Kind of surprised myself. I know it's short, but I'm hoping to update later today (or super early tomorrow!) with the continuation. **

**D/C I don't own glee :(**

* * *

Kurt leapt out of bed. It was six o'clock. _Six o'clock? I'm running late, running late..._

After a fast shower, he whizzed through his moisturising routine as efficiently as he could, managing to crop a whole ten minutes off the end. Wearing his baggy towel dressing gown that he never let anyone see, not wanting them to judge him (it was just so soft), he padded over to his wardrobe. He'd planned out today's outfit using the clothes in his locker because he hadn't been slushied all week since the first one and he was fairly sure that he still had a full outfit left over in locker. And hopefully, it wouldn't matter whether he did or not.

Once he was dressed, he turned his attention to his hair. God, he hated shower hair. As he moved his hands over his hair, moulding it into shape, he decided to stray from his usual neat-but-stylish coiffed hair. He kind of wanted it to look sexy. He was pretty sure that this whim was caused by Blaine's pending visit, but he wasn't going to bother addressing that now. He pushed it into a carefully mussed up style and then started spraying it with copious amounts of hairspray.

"Dude...woah, dude it stinks in here!" Finn burst through the door before coughing and waving his hands ineffectually at the air. _Okay, maybe I used a bit too much spray, but it's perfectly justifiable - in my defence, this is a tricky look I'm attempting to pull off and I want both sides of my head to stay in balance...STAY FOCUSSED KURT! Stop drifting off in the middle of conversations!_

"It's only hairspray, Finn." Kurt said, exasperated. "And you were saying..."

Finn screwed up his face at the smell and looked relieved that the thin mist was floating down. "Oh yeah, can I have a lift? I think Rachel's pissed at me. I don't know what I've done this time."

Kurt felt a stab of sympathy – he knew that his step-brother loved Rachel to pieces and that she felt the same way, but they argued like an old married couple. "Sure Finn, I'm going straight after I've had breakfast, so could you be ready?"

"Errm, I think so dude. Do you think maybe you could talk to her about it today?"

"Course. And don't call me that."

"What? Oh, right, sorry dude."

_I'm fighting a losing battle..._

* * *

Kurt strode confidently down the hall, head held high. On either side he was flanked by Rachel and Mercedes. Apparently Tina was hanging out with Mike, her new boyfriend. Today, he was not going to let any jerk from any of the teams mess with him because he didn't want to keep lying to his dad about school issues. He wanted that "Fine" to be accurate. And he was wearing a new-ish vest which he was quite fond of. And slushie stains were hell to evict. He checked his timetable, ignoring the slight blue stain in the top right corner and half-listening to Rachel and Mercedes gushing about Mike and Tina. He was so glad that they had got together; they were really well matched and Tina had been making so much progress with her shyness; she was opening up and he knew that she had liked Mike for ages. Trying another relationship would be good for her. She and Artie hadn't exactly split on the best of terms.

He was heading to Glee, third period with the girls. He loved having glee rehearsals during the day as well as after school. It was a place where he felt really accepted and safe.

Since his brief thought of Blaine this morning, he hadn't let himself be distracted by the boy all morning and he was hoping that his crush might have been just a really fast attraction to the bad boy. _Everyone has a crush on the bad boy at some point, right? Maybe I've got over it already._

"Hey sexy." A voice coming from behind him dripped with seduction.

Bang went that theory.

* * *

Blaine owned the corridor, his usual strut only slightly reduced in arrogance by his ribs. He was glad that he was already causing people to part like the red sea; he was in no shape to be pushing through crowds and keeping up his attitude at the same time. He was pretty sure that the side of his face that was attracting stares was not the one he could see out of. Memories of trying to pull out his contact lens were still causing shivers of horror to run down his spine. He'd ended up making darker, indigo bruising spread around the base of his eye, and his slitted eye had been more bloodshot than white. Now he was only wearing one contact, because there was no way he was wearing his glasses to school. Sure, they were in his pocket, but he had no intention of wearing them. His hair was un-gelled – the cut on the back of his head had stung horribly when he tried to start putting a small blob of the gel in. Gone were the days when he had practically worn a helmet of the stuff to school. He'd left that behind him, but having a little bit in made him feel oddly safe. In all honesty, he looked a mess. But people were now slightly scared of him, and the jocks had all assumed he'd been fighting, so he now held far more respect than he had on Tuesday. It would have suited him well enough, without the pain. He clicked his piercing against the backs of his teeth, relaxing into the reassuring rhythm.

Then he spotted a brunette head and he felt warmth flood his body, numbing the twinges from his ribs. _It is, right?_

Kurt's head turned and he caught a glimpse of his angelic profile.

_Yup._

Ignoring his torso's protest, he lengthened his strides and increased his pace.

"Hey sexy."

Kurt spun on his heel. The two girls on either side of him gasped at the state of his face, but then exchanged meaningful glances, making small gestures. They slipped away, seemingly unnoticed by Kurt. He was damned if he understood them.

His eyes were fixated on the smooth lips of the boy in front of him as he took in his face. _Oh crap, I forgot that he'd want to know what happened._ Guilt filled his body when the boy's eyes widened and welled with distress. _Wait, guilt? What the! _

"...Blaine, what happened? Oh my God, I knew there was something wrong-"

"I'm fine babe."

* * *

The lie sounded wrong coming out of Blaine's perfect mouth. His sculpted face was so marred that Kurt just wanted to scream at whoever had done it. The fact that this could happen to someone made him want to throw up. _Should I? Yes, no? Oh sod it... _Kurt grabbed Blaine's left hand, missing the small grunt of pain that escaped him. When he tugged it, Blaine used his right hand to untangle their hands carefully. Something Kurt identified as pain was fogging the glazed hazel eyes.

"Oh God sorry, Blaine, I just wanted you to follow me. I didn't mean to-" Colour flooded his face. _Oh My God. What. The. Hell. Do. You. Think. You. Are. Doing! You grabbed his hand! Just why. Why?_

* * *

"Oh, right, don't worry babe. I don't mind that, it's just not _that_ hand." Blaine thought about it, _why does it not bother me? That's an intimate gesture, this won't help you- _Apparently, Blaine's body wasn't following instructions from his mind anymore and Kurt's rosy cheeks were so ador- _do not complete that word. Just don't. _–able. Kurt was fucking up his head. _Since when do I use words like that? _He watched his right hand entwine itself with the slender boy's soft –_ wow, so soft _- fingers.

"Lead on!" His voice was roughened around the edges from sleep loss. At least it still had his usual flirtatious, slightly teasing ring to it. He was so tired; he could just fall asleep now. On his feet, holding hands with Kurt. _Holding hands, what the fuck? _His body wasn't doing anything to change that status though.

Kurt hesitantly pulled on the hand clasped with his own and tugged him into the empty music practise room on his right. Blaine watched him calmly as he nervously twisted his hands.

"Fire away." Blaine said, bracing himself for a lot of questions. He wasn't planning on answering them.

* * *

**A/N Hope you enjoyed it, less than three :) xxx Reviews...? **


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N Hello again guys :) As predicted, an early morning update! I hope this isn't too random/ disjointed... Anyway, I hope you like it.**

**D/C I, unfortunately, do not own glee :'(**

* * *

Kurt stepped forwards. He wasn't sure what made him do it, but he gently laid his cool fingertips on Blaine's face and traced the outline of the bruise. Blaine flinched at the gesture, so he dropped his hand. He knew Blaine didn't like affection and hell; he probably didn't even like him. He knew that he wanted him, but he didn't like him. He continued to scrutinise Blaine's bruising and let his eyes drift across his face. He hadn't noticed before, but he could now see three piercings in Blaine's ear. The other ear had one, large piercing. When he looked back at Blaine, the other boy was staring at him.

"What is it babe? I know I look sexy as hell with a black eye."

"Ugh! Blaine, don't. Can you just drop the attitude? Try to have a non-sexual conversation, maybe?" Kurt gave him a death glare, which softened at the sight of his eye swelling. "This is to do with what happened on Tuesday, isn't it?

Blaine's eyes relocated on the floor. "Yes."

"Please tell me what happened." _Please, Blaine. Let me in._

Blaine looked up and met his eyes. Kurt was taken aback by the sheerness of the walls he could almost physically see in the boy's eyes. Then they snapped.

* * *

"It's none of your fucking business! Why are you acting like this? Why do you even fucking care? Can't you just leave me alone?" Blaine slapped his hand over his mouth. Apparently he no longer held any control over his mouth and actions. The hurt in Kurt's eyes was the more painful than any of the injuries he had ever experienced. _Shit, shit - what have I done...?_

* * *

Kurt was physically shaking. _Stop caring. Just stop. This boy is fucking with your life and objectifies you and he won't even try to open up. Just, argh, I could punch him now-_

"Me, leave _you_ alone! I'm sorry Blaine! I'm sorry for even caring! I'm sorry that you hide in that little world in your head where nothing freaking matters! I'm sorry that I ever let myself freaking care about you, okay! Just stop fucking with me. Please. Just..." Kurt stuttered, muttering the last bit, "...I don't know!" He was yelling now, forgetting that they were in a classroom, "Stay the fuck out of life if you won't let me into yours and stop messing with my emotions! I'm just freaking

worried about you!"

* * *

_He just said he cares about me and is worried about me. In one sentence. Fuck. Don't get attached. Don't. Don't. Don't..._

_Too late._

As Kurt spun around to march out of the room, Blaine reached out a grabbed his shoulder, turning him roughly back around. _Apologise to him. _Wait, that was new. His brain telling him to do something he wanted? _Irrelevant. He looks so beautiful..._

* * *

"Kurt." Blaine sounded broken. "I'm-I'm so fucking sorry okay? Um-" He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, then flinched at the pain it caused his head and wrist.

Kurt widened his eyes at the evidence of more injuries. _How hurt is he? _He started to tug his arm out of the boy's grip, but he was too strong. Something about the vulnerability of his eyes made Kurt want to hug him. Even when he was still so mad.

"Err, I, um, I really care about you, Kurt."

Kurt froze.

Blaine squeezed his arm.

"Babe, please answer."

Kurt stayed stock still. _He...what?_ This had to be some kind of sick dream. One minute they were yelling and now Blaine was telling him he cared and...and...and his brain was overloading.

A pair of warm lips hovered near his own, before crashing into them in a passionate kiss. Blaine tasted good. Like, really good. A blend of peppermint, smoke and something unique that just reminded him of the boy so much.

_Blaine's kissing me, Blaine's kissing me... _

The shorter boy began to suck on his bottom lip and Kurt moaned, starting to kiss back, pushing his lips against Blaine's. He was running out of air, so he opened his mouth to breathe, only for Blaine to force his tongue into Kurt's mouth. Their tongues slid over each other and Kurt gasped at the friction caused by his tongue stud. His senses had gone crazy; Blaine smelt amazing, like some mixture of cologne and oil. Last time they had been so close, he had been too shocked to breathe and he realised now that he had been missing out.

Blaine's tongue was tracing over his teeth, and Kurt couldn't do anything but wind his fingers through his black curls. He felt Blaine pause against his mouth and his face twist before starting to kiss along his jaw line. _How the hell could that feel so good?_ Finally, Blaine started to suck on his pulse and Kurt whimpered with heat. _When did it get so freaking hot in here? _He began to tug on Blaine's hair, but Blaine groaned in pain.

"Argh, fuck babe, stop, please."

Kurt sprung away from Blaine. _Why did I kiss back? Oh God, I shouldn't have done that..._ He looked down awkwardly. His fingers were coated red with a dark liquid.

"Oh my God Blaine! I'm sorry! What on earth...?" Kurt felt completely helpless and was panicking.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." He had to admit, Blaine cursing was really sexy. "Errm, ba-Kurt, I swear I'll explain, but I've got to go now."

He seemed so unsure. "Where are you going? You have to go to the nurs-" Kurt asked, concerned.

"No! Um, no. I can't." He was pale. Really pale.

"You can't drive that bike like this, Blaine."

"I've got to walk anyway."

"There's no way, I'm letting you walk like this alon... Blaine?"

Blaine was slumped against the wall; he'd passed out.

"Blaine?"

He blinked, and then sat up fast. "Wha...wait – Kurt?"

"Yes. What do you want to do?"

"Besides fucking you up against that do-" His lewd grin was reacquainting itself with his lips.

"Blaine!" Kurt groaned. "What the hell? You just fainted, for God's sake. Stop it!"

"Right, babe. Stopping."

Kurt looked at the ghostly pale face of the boy in front of him. He'd already missed about a third of glee anyway, right? And he already had two weeks detention starting on Monday. "I'll drive you to wherever you need to go, okay? Actually, you have no choice in the matter."

* * *

"Babe, you can't-"

Kurt pressed his hand over the boy's mouth, blushing. "No choice."

Blaine allowed Kurt to help him stand up, and then dealt with the situation he had. _I can't go home... my father might be there. I don't know where Kurt can take me._

* * *

By the time they had crossed the car park, and Blaine was in Kurt's car, Blaine had passed out three more times and the blood was still oozing sluggishly. Kurt was desperately trying not to panic, but the only thing he could think of to do was call 911. Blaine had practically begged him not to. When Blaine was this weak and vulnerable in appearance, Kurt couldn't be forceful.

He started the engine and left the school, feeling conspicuous – he'd never just left the school before.

"Where to?" Kurt paused. "Blaine?"

He looked over and took in the sight of the sleeping boy. Blaine was clutching his left wrist – _why is it bandaged? _– and his head was tilted back, mouth slightly open. He looked young; Kurt could only see the relatively undamaged half of his face.

He was only left with one option.

Kurt carefully lifted Blaine's arm over his shoulder, and tugged the half-awake boy up to lean on him.

"Almost there, Blaine. Then you can sleep."

As the journey had progressed, Blaine had become increasingly child-like; there was no resemblance between the attitude of the boy he was now practically hugging and the boy he had seen on his way to third period before he dragged him into a music room.

"M'kay." Kurt's heart almost popped at the adorableness of Blaine at that moment.

After fumbling with the keys, Kurt lugged Blaine down into his basement bedroom and laid him down on the bed. To be honest, having Blaine in his bed seemed like a pretty bad idea, but he didn't know what to do. The boy rolled over and clawed at a pillow, before pulling it down and hugging it.

He started to gently explore the back of Blaine's head. It had almost stopped bleeding. He ran and fetched a wad of tissue and held it pressed against the boy's head carefully, but firmly. _Maybe Blaine will let Carole take a look at it later...? Seems unlikely._

He watched Blaine sleep for a while, checking his tissues to see how well it was doing and trying to avoid looking at the bruised half of the boy's face. The wound had stopped leaking, but Kurt could feel how tender the surrounding area was.

_Who would do this to him? The only thing I can think of is that he has indeed been fighting, or that maybe...his family? They might be unaccepting of his sexuality?_ Kurt hated the idea that someone close to Blaine would hurt him like this. _I guess I'll just have to wait for an explanation._

Blaine shifted in his sleep until his head was resting against Kurt's arm. He pressed his face into the crook of his elbow and then shuffled closer. He let out a tiny whine.

Kurt smiled sadly at the injured man who was now tucked into his side. He could tell that Blaine was broken, but he didn't know how to help.

For now, however, his problem was to stop Burt from coming down and finding Blaine down here. That was not a situation he wanted to face – Blaine was so stubborn and he'd seen how he reacted to teachers; lewd comment and rudeness flowed off his tongue, completely unstoppable. Hopefully that wasn't his naturally reaction to all adults, but Kurt didn't want to take any chances.

He knew Burt's reaction to Blaine was not going to be good. _Going to be? Wait... Oh my god. Blaine kissed me. _The memories poured back into his mind as he remembered every detail. His first kiss. It hadn't been romantic, but for once, he didn't mind. _He said he cares about me. _A tiny smile burst out of Kurt despite the circumstance he found himself in now. It was replaced by anxiety when he saw Blaine's face so expressionless and pure. His sleeping face was so relaxed and youthful; in comparison, awake, he looked like he was carrying the troubles of the world on his shoulders, accompanied by a larger than life smirk.

Sure, their kiss had broken off an important argument they needed to have, but he was sure they would be able to sort it out. The warm body pressed against him stirred again, and Kurt gently shimmied down the bed so that he was lying next to Blaine, rather than leaning against the headboard.

Gently untangling the dark curls that were flopping across his arms, Kurt relaxed and allowed himself to close his eyes. He was feeling so shocked and tired that all he wanted to do was sleep for days. He looked at Blaine's pale face and thought about the blood. _There was just so freaking much... God, I hope he's okay. _Kurt drifted off.

* * *

**A/N Thanks for reading guys :) I'd like to know what you think cause the storyline has made a pretty big step now :) love you all! x**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N Hello again! I'm having an update-y weekend :) Really long chapter ahead... Sure, it's probably a little unrealistic, but who cares? (...if you do, tell me! x)**

**D/C I do not own glee.**

* * *

Blaine stirred, and pressed his face against the silky surface it was pressed against. The soft surface made his bruise sensitive, so he withdrew his head. He was really warm and comfortable. He rolled over to his left and realised he was still fully dressed with shoes and everything. A lengthy internal debate followed about opening his eyes, but he really didn't want to. He turned back to the warm object he'd been leaning on and nuzzled it again. It smelt nice – like vanilla and jasmine. He murmured something quietly.

* * *

Kurt watched Blaine as he rubbed his cheek against his arm and curled up tightly. The boy was so sweet when he was asleep. He'd slept for a while, but had woken up, pinned to the bed by Blaine's arm with his fingers twirled through his hair. _This is probably really creepy_, Kurt thought. He'd been watching Blaine toss and turn and mutter incoherently for quite a long time now, his emotions switching suddenly as he saw the different halves of Blaine's face. One side was breathtakingly beautiful; long lashes brushing a perfect tan oval cheek, with a strong nose and a dusting of stubble. His face was really pale though, still. Whilst Kurt was staring at the gorgeous boy he would twist and contort his body into weird curled up positions. As he moved around, Kurt would catch glimpses of the other half and feel anger and pain bubbling up inside him.

He was falling for this boy badly; from the second Blaine fainted against that wall and Kurt skipped the rest of the day to help him he had accepted it. He wasn't sure what had made him bring Blaine back here, but something had stopped him taking the boy back to his own house. Kurt had a horrible feeling this was an issue from home.

Once again he let his fingers drift through the boy's locks, feeling resistance when they traced through the blood matted on the back of his head. Presumably whilst they were both asleep, it had bled again, because Kurt's pillow and vest were both covered in blood stains. It had freaked him at first, but then he had realised where it was from and calmed down a bit; only worried for the boy. He hadn't even realised that his Burberry shirt was stained as well and even when he did it didn't bother him the way it normally would. This was Blaine bleeding on his shoulder from a wound on the back of his head that Kurt was still unable to properly examine, and it hurt him so much to see him in this much pain.

He cradled the boy's head which was now lying on his chest. _He said he cares about me today. I think he was sincere, oh God I hope he was. And that kiss. That had to be real. _

Kurt was positive that the kiss was real. It had been so passionate, but Blaine had called him Kurt and had actually said 'please' when spoke (Admittedly, he was horrified that Blaine had to say please because Kurt was causing him pain). _Something I never thought I'd hear._ The circumstances had been less than ideal. He didn't want his first kiss with Blaine to end with him fainting and this whole mess. He had no idea how Blaine was going to react when he woke up.

_Oh God._

Kurt remembered.

_I've skipped school now. That's permanent record stuff. It's worth it to help Blaine though, I don't know how to explain it to Mercedes though...oh shit._

_Mercedes must be worried._

Kurt tried to dig through his pocket without disturbing Blaine. Once he had evicted it from his tight, striped jeans, he pressed the on button. Six unread texts, no missed calls. It was still school time so Finn wouldn't be back for at least an hour and a half. And his Dad should be at the garage for another few hours, unless there was a problem. Hopefully Carole's shift at the hospital would last until later. He didn't need to wake sleeping Blaine yet. He was pretty scared of what would happen when Blaine woke up; how he would react.

**6 Unread Messages from Mercedes :)**

Kurt tapped the screen of his iPhone and his inbox opened. He ran through each one from Mercedes and then decided what to put. They read-

**Gt ur whit butt in hre nw! Theres nt much longr I cn tell Mr Schue ur nt feeling wll, he wants 2 gt the nurse! **

**Kurt!**

**Kurt, if ur makin out wth Blaine u need to untangle urself and gt here! Mr Schue's bein distractd by Rachel nw **

**End ur 'convo' wth hot-stuff NOW Kurt. **

And then from later-

**Where r u? Im worried white boy x**

**ANSWER BOY!**

Tipping his phone to get a keyboard, Kurt wrote

_**I'm sorry 'Cedes, I promise to explain soon, but I'm not sure what to say now. **_

Literally seconds after his phone beeped to say '**Message Sent'**, Kurt got a reply.

**From Mercedes :)**

**Hmm, Ill hold u 2 tht. **

He sighed. Explaining this wasn't going to be an easy one, and he didn't want to tell anything that Blaine might tell him; it was Blaine's story to tell and if he trusted him enough to share a little bit, Kurt wasn't going to blow it. He could give the basics, but Blaine was the only one who could give the explanation, and he knew that he wouldn't. Mercedes would have to settle with a very vague answer.

"Arrrrrghhhhhh! No, please, no! Argh, no!" Blaine shoved Kurt away and cringed away from him. "No, don't, please not there-"

He started muttering as he clenched up into a tiny ball. He was shaking, clearly still asleep. Kurt approached him cautiously. _He's having a nightmare. What do I do, should I wake him up? What if he gets scared? _Blaine started to push himself against the headboard and tense even more. _I've got to wake him, he's going to hurt himself._

Kurt crept forwards.

"Blaine?" Kurt said tentatively.

"Noooo...please." Blaine mumbled.

"Blaine?" The boy just remained asleep, still shaking against the board.

He reached out a hand and gently touched his shoulder.

Everything happened very quickly after that. Blaine half woke up, screaming and stuck his hand into his pocket. He pulled out a pen knife and held it out in front of him. "No, please stay-y ba-ack! Don't hurt me...no. Please don't do thi-"

"Blaine!" Kurt said forcefully. "Wake up! It's only a dream, you're safe..." He wished he knew what to say. "It's Kurt, please wake up Blaine."

The unseeing haze in Blaine's eyes cleared and he dropped back down onto the bed. Kurt took advantage of his floppy muscles and tugged the knife out of his lax grip.

* * *

"...Kurt?"_Where the hell am I? And why is Kurt here?_

"It's okay Blaine... I brought you to my place because you fell asleep and I didn't know where to take you."

"Wh-what? Why...? Oh." Blaine remembered what had happened now; the memory lacked clarity, but he remembered panicking and yelling at Kurt and then...oh. He'd kind of admitted his feelings and then kissed him. That part was particularly clear. How Kurt had tasted on his tongue, the feeling of sucking on his perfect neck. And then – _oh yeah, Kurt pulled on my hair and it was really fucking hurting, so I – oh crap, I must have fainted. _"Did I collapse?"

Kurt looked visibly shaken. "Yeah... Blaine? I think you need to have that head wound looked at-"

"No! I just can't okay?"

"Sor-"

"Fuck, I'm sorry babe. Don't apologise. It's – well, old habits die hard. I know I owe you an explanation for...all this," He gestured at the blood stains, knife and himself in general. "I-I just can't. I'm..." _Scared_, he added silently.

"I'm just so fucking tired. Do you-do you mind if I stay here a bit longer?" Blaine asked quietly.

"Of course you can...I'll just, I don't know, go up-"

* * *

"Willyoustaywithme?" Kurt strained to hear what Blaine had said. It was all spoken s quickly that he didn't take it in.

He gave Blaine a confused look.

Blaine looked away and said, "Will you stay here with me? It's okay, you don't have to..." The boy flushed.

_Woah, Blaine blushed? _"If you want me to..." Kurt sat awkwardly on the bed. Blaine tugged the covers up around himself and pushed off his shoes. He lay down on his side and tucked his legs up as far as his ribs would let him. He looked up at Kurt through his eyelashes in a way that would've been sexy if the state of his face didn't make Kurt want to cry. Blaine patted the bed next to him questioningly.

_What harm can it do...you were doing this a minute ago._

He slipped under the covers and maneuvered himself so that he was next to Blaine without actually touching him. Slowly, he relaxed his limbs.

Blaine shuffle towards him and gently tugged him towards his body. They lay, Blaine's head resting against Kurt's shoulder as he slowly un-tensed his stressed body.

Kurt tipped his head to the side almost touching the top of Blaine's head, making sure they were on the underneath pillows that were yet unbloodied.

Kurt was pretty sure that Blaine was asleep by now, but he needed to ask this.

"Blaine?"

Blaine moved his head to answer. "Mm-Yeah babe?"

"What you said earlier...did you mean it Blaine?"

Kurt waited patiently for the boy to work out what he was referring to; _he's been asleep, give him a chance to understand. I just, I need to know. _

* * *

_Yes. I meant it. I've only known you for a week. I care about you. Yes._

Blaine's head was throbbing and each time his brain told him to run now, he felt like screaming. _Shit, I really need a smoke._ Maybe he didn't want to run. Maybe he was meant to tell Kurt. But, maybe this time he would screw up yet another person who he cared about. _Don't think about that now, just don't._

_I meant it._

_I know I meant it, but what if I screw him up as well? What if he screws me up? You're already screwed up. Every time I do this I end up hurt. _Somehow Blaine didn't think that Kurt would mess with him. _What do I say? _Choosing between his head and his heart was so difficult. _Don't be such a fucking coward, Blaine. Grow a pair. _For once, that voice in his head had something useful to say, at a time when it wouldn't hurt him. Well, not _useful_, per se, just conveniently timed.

_I meant it._

* * *

The silence lasted for what felt like aeons. Kurt was starting to think that Blaine was asleep, but he couldn't tell.

"Babe?" Blaine's voice was really hoarse.

"Yes?"

"I meant it. I really did. I, fuck, I don't do this though."

"You did. You don't do what?"

Blaine lifted his head from where it was resting on Kurt and emphasised the action.

"I-I want to try though."

"Do you mean...dating?"

"Yeah."

Kurt's chest swelled. Blaine was going to put aside his apparent issues with dating to be his – _wait! Does this mean we're boyfriends, or what?_

"Okay. But Blaine?"

"Yeah babe?"

"I've heard the rumours about you and your little exploits in the boy's bathroom with random people on the first day. Don't screw me over."

* * *

Blaine groaned. "If you must know, I was trying to distract myself from you – I'd never been so attracted to someone before. It didn't work though. I haven't hooked up since then; I can't, not when I've got you on my mind babe." _Don't screw him over._

Kurt was smiling, even though Blaine had basically just confirmed the 'rumour'.

"It doesn't feel like five days since you were being a jerk in English that first lesson." Kurt noted.

"I know babe. I still am a jerk though."

"Will you...?" Kurt trailed off at the end, mumbling the last two words.

"Really babe?" _What the fuck? Why are you being so hesitant?_

Kurt nodded.

Blaine lifted his head from the pillow again, and hovered his mouth in front of Kurt's. He took a moment to look into the other boy's eyes, but gave up on trying to label them. They shifted colour like the ocean.

Gently, he pressed his lips against Kurt's.

The kiss was soft and careful. Blaine resisted the urge to shove his tongue down Kurt's throat and gently tugged at Kurt's perfect lips with his own. It was so different from their kiss earlier.

* * *

Kurt gasped as Blaine's mouth touched his lips and almost fainted at the tenderness behind it. He could only faintly taste Blaine and he desperately wanted to see if he tasted as good as he remembered. Nervously, Kurt opened his mouth against Blaine's, giving him permission to go furthur. Blaine reciprocated, immediately sliding his tongue along Kurt's. The taste of peppermint wasn't as strong as earlier, but he could still taste smoke and that oddly Blaine taste.

_Wait...Blaine smokes? It's such a disgusting habit...ugh. And so bad for him. I guess the only time I've seen him out of school was Tuesday's fiasco... _

Blaine recaptured his attention by sucking on the end of his tongue. He let out an embarrassingly loud moan and tugged the boy closer by the lapel of his leather jacket, occupying his hands with something safe (he did _not_ want a repeat of earlier, ever). Blaine put his right hand on Kurt's hip and pulled him close, so that they were connected from foreheads down to their toes. Kurt pulled his hips back, afraid that Blaine would notice how hard he was. He flushed at the idea, and considered stopping to cool off. He really didn't want to break the kiss though.

"Bl-la-ine-" Kurt sharply sucked in a gasp of air as Blaine continued the work he started earlier. His lips were sealed around Kurt's neck as he nipped and kissed it. "Fuck Blaine-" Kurt squirmed at the new sensation, bucking into him and pulling Blaine on top of him. He unbuttoned the top four and bottom two fastenings on Blaine's shirt and slipped his hand in, slightly unsure of what he was doing except that he never wanted it to end. When he felt the bandages, he whimpered and tried to think what they could be hiding.

Blaine stopped what he was doing and straddled Kurt's thighs to look at him. He smirked at the noise Kurt let out at the loss of contact.

"Are you sure you're okay with this, babe?" He looked genuinely worried.

* * *

"God yes, Blaine, please keep kissing me-" Kurt looked so beautiful; eyes dark with lust, lips bruised and hair sticking up in all directions. He only had so much self-restraint.

He leant down and reconnected their lips with energy, deepening it immediately. He could feel Kurt's erection against his leg and gently rubbed against it watching Kurt's beautiful porcelain neck strain backwards as he moaned. Blaine began to lick the marks he'd already left on the beautiful skin and found a bare patch to claim.

Yes, he probably shouldn't be giving in to Kurt; he knew the boy wasn't really ready for anything beyond making out, but he was so gorgeous and the noises he was making were sinful. It also didn't help how painful the knives shooting through his ribs were.

It was worth it though, to hear Kurt moaning and taste every inch of his beautiful neck.

* * *

Neither of them heard someone come in through the front door upstairs.

* * *

**A/N Soooo, kind of predictable! Please review - I really like hearing your opinions! Including con-crit :) Hope you liked the chapter xxx less than three**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N Hello people! Errm. Chapter 11. I hope you enjoy it :) **

**I chose this character for maximum awkwardness, of course :P **

**Love you guys! xxx **

**35 reviews! Wow!**

**D/C I don't own glee.**

* * *

Burt unlocked the door and let himself into the house. He'd finished all of his appointments at the garage and really had nothing else to do. Besides, it was nice seeing Kurt and Finn when they got back from school - before they dashed off to friend's houses.

That was one of the reasons why he liked Friday night dinners so much – he had a firm rule that no friends or (in Finn's case) girlfriends were allowed over. Of course he was very happy that his two sons had so many friends, especially Kurt as he had never been one to deliberately blend in with social norms. And he knew that the glee club were like a second family to the boys. They had their arguments – the number of times Kurt had been mad at Rachel; he'd lost count. Anyway, the point was; Friday meant that they could spend time together in their new family. Since the wedding, they had grown so close – even Kurt and Finn, who had had their problems in the past. Finn was really protective of Kurt - he found it very amusing; it led to bickering that was so sibling-esque it was uncanny.

He dropped his bag and kicked off his shoes, dropping his coat onto the shoe rack. Realising Kurt would kill him for it later, he picked it up and hung it over a spare hook.

_Wait, is that Kurt's school bag? Maybe he left this morning. I'll ask him when he gets back. Glee finishes at...quarter to five, right? Still an hour or so until they get back. Hey – maybe I can nick some crisps... _Burt shook his head. Carole probably had them all counted.

He brushed off the thought sadly and headed towards the kitchen. No doubt he would be banned from beer soon, so he might as well make the most of it. _Stupid heart attack._ Kurt was taking the whole 'dietary change' thing to heart. _I swear there is nothing but rabbit food left in the house – I'm suspicious of where Kurt and Carole produce Finn's normal food from. _He might find the store, one day.

"Mmmmph..."

Burt heard a muffled, quiet noise. From...downstairs...? But Kurt wasn't back, yet – he was still at school. _What the hell? _Burt walked out of the kitchen and made his way downstairs slowly. He knew that the hospital had said no stairs, but he wasn't going to let them coddle him the way Carole and Kurt were prone to doing, now he was back.

* * *

"Ah, Blaine – there, please-" Kurt clutched at the shirtless boy as Blaine kissed his exposed chest. _Is this too fast? Do I care? _All he knew was that he never wanted Blaine to stop what he was doing. He was being embarrassingly vocal, but to be honest, he didn't care.

* * *

Blaine gently tweaked the other boy's nipple with his calloused finger, relishing the sense of Kurt arching against him. He kissed the flawless skin of his chest and then searched for Kurt's lips. He met them with his own and melted into the fiery kiss.

* * *

Burt finally managed to ease himself to the bottom of the stairs. Getting back up again without help was going to be hell.

He heard another hum and approached the door to Kurt's bedroom. It was shut. _Maybe he left his music on or something._ He reached out and twisted the handle, walking into the room absent-mindedly.

"Oh my God!"

* * *

Kurt and Blaine sprung apart instantly.

Kurt echoed his father. "Oh my God!" _This is not happening._

Burt's eyes were roving over the scene, one of them twitching slightly; Kurt – face flushed maroon in embarrassment, shirt hanging open, hair sticking up and reddened neck; Blaine - fully shirtless, bandaged and with half his face looking like a pen had exploded on it. Both with reddened lips, looking utterly debauched. Added to that, the pillows were covered in blood. _Please God; say he hasn't seen the knife. This looks so bad. _

"Hello sir." Blaine was standing there, not even trying to put his shirt on or hide his obvious hardness.

Kurt died. "Blaine!" he hissed. "Don't you dare..." _Please, no. Blaine. Don't. You. Start. That. Not now._

"In case you didn't notice, Kurt and I have a little unfini..."

Kurt leapt up and put his hand over Blaine's mouth. After glaring at him, he removed the hand. _Oh my gaga. My life is officially over._

"Dad?" Kurt said weakly.

Burt slowly dragged his hand from over his eyes as he turned around to face the door. "I want to see you upstairs in ten minutes, Kurt. And you," He gestured at where he thought Blaine was, "can leave. Now." His voice was...strained.

Kurt watched as his dad left his room and then flopped on his bed. "What the hell Blaine? What were you even going to say?"

Blaine looked suitably apologetic as he said, "You probably don't want to know babe. If it's worth anything, I am sorry." He looked at Kurt with a wide eye.

_Crap. Not puppy dog eyes, anything but puppy dog-Blaine eyes! Damn it, I can't resist. _Kurt sighed, unable to stay mad. Not when he looked so dejected. "It's okay. Is that automatic? The whole awkward-sexual-comments-at-inappropriate-times thing?"

Blaine smirked. "It just happens, you know. I actually can no longer control my mouth."

Silence as Kurt tried to stifle a giggle. "I should know!"

Blaine grabbed him by his open shirt and tugged him into his body, holding his hips as he pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. _Probably his first ever 'chaste' kiss, _Kurt thought, smiling against Blaine's lips. He wrapped his arms around Blaine and pulled him into a hug. The shorter boy pressed his curly head into Kurt's neck and embraced him back, happier in his arms than he could ever remember.

Kurt squeezed Blaine's waist gently before running his fingers along the edge of the bandage wrapped around his lower chest down to where his hips met his trousers. It was covering so much of his perfect skin.

"Baby?" Kurt held his breath when he realised what he had said.

"I like that. And yes?" Blaine's voice was soft.

"Why do you have a bandage around you?"

Blaine stiffened. "I can't tell you, Kurt. I really want to babe. Please understand." He looked up at Kurt, eyes pleading.

Kurt ran a finger through his hair, snagging it on some dry blood. "I wish you could. But I'll wait; as long as you need."

Blaine tucked himself back against Kurt's chest. "Thanks babe. I guess I have to go now." He seemed to physically shrink. He began to slip out of Kurt's grip.

Kurt simply tightened his hold, stopping him from moving. "You're not going before you've got that blood out of your hair and I'm certainly not letting you walk that far alone, in this state. Stay here, I'll go talk to Dad."

He ghosted his fingers over Blaine's bruise, pressed a kiss gently against it and then walked over to his vanity.

"Oh My God!" He yelled again. "My hair!" He looked at his flushed cheeks and sticking-up hair and died slightly inside. "Why didn't you tell me Blaine? I'm a mess."

"You haven't seen your hickeys yet babe..." Kurt blanched, "Anyway, I think you look sexy."

Kurt was frantically running his hands through his hair, calming it and doing up his shirt. He tugged on the first scarf he found (that matched, of course) and made sure it hid the wall of bruises up his neck. _Blaine sure is possessive. _Checking himself over one more time, he headed to the door, taking a deep breath. _Here goes. _Just as he started to walk through the door, he felt a calloused hand catch his own. "I'm sorry, Kurt."

Blaine squeezed his hand.

"It's not your fault Blaine! Dad tends to forget about knocking." Kurt smiled and climbed the stairs.

Kurt poked his head awkwardly around the living room door. He saw his Dad sitting on the couch and stepped in, delicately shutting the door behind him. He sat down on the opposite end of the same seat.

Burt looked up, face awkward. "Isthatyourboyfriend?" The words tumbled out.

"Erm, yes. I suppose. Yes, he is. My boyfriend." Kurt said disjointedly. "Yes."

"'I suppose'? Why didn't you tell me you had a boyfriend?"

"We, only just started dating, Dad." Kurt winced.

"I see."

Awkward silence filled the room.

"How lo-"

"I'm sorr-"

"You go first." Burt gestured for his son to continue.

"I'm sorry Dad." Kurt's eyes were brimming with tears.

"What's wrong, Kurt?"

"You're disappointed, aren't you? And I never wanted t-"

"Shhh." Burt shuffled forwards and hugged his son. "I'm not disappointed; only surprised and slightly annoyed that you never told me and that I had to walk in on...that."

"I couldn't Dad, we only got together a few hours ago."

Burt frowned at this statement.

"He's not taking advanta-"

Kurt flushed bright red. "We weren't doing...that Dad!" He looked mortified.

"Oh right. Thank God. Don't you think that you're moving a bit fast?"

"Daaaaaaaaaaaaad!" Kurt whined. "I...I really care about him, okay?"

"I, um. Well, okay then." He rubbed his neck. "I don't want any more inappropriate behaviour in the house, then. And I want to meet him." Kurt paled. "But not now, God no. Get him out."

"Um, Dad, he can't go now."

"Yes he can. And he is. I expect him gone by-"

"At least let him stay half an hour longer. The reason I'm back so early is because he really needed help."

"Why did he... Wait a minute. You skipped school, didn't you Kurt. How much?" Anger was trickling into his voice.

"Just since third period, Dad. You don't understand why, Dad, I can explain later. I promise I'll explain!"

Burt narrowed his eyes. "Okay. I want him out of the house in quarter of an hour, no longer."

"Please Dad...?"

"No buts. He's out."

Kurt walked out of the living room. That was...awkward, to say the least. And I can't kick Blaine out in that state.

_How much will Blaine mind me telling Dad later?_

* * *

Burt leant back against the couch. _God, I need Carole to help me deal with this. _That had to be the single hardest conversation he'd had in his life, which was saying something because he could remember when Kurt brought Brittany over. All she had talked about were dolphins for a solid half hour, before Kurt dragged her down to the basement to stay with the other girls.

* * *

Kurt practically ran through his bedroom door in relief to have escaped the oppressive awkwardness that had just filled him during his conversation with his father.

He was greeted by the sight of Blaine curled up sleeping on his bed, now wearing his t-shirt, wrapped around his pillow. The boy was hugging it so tightly he could see the muscles in his arms tensing. _Those arms... Just wow. _He wasn't unnaturally muscly, in the way that looks odd, but his biceps were hot. _Wait, what the hell... _Kurt went and sat next to the silent boy. He twisted his arm around gently and felt his heart skip a beat. Twining around Blaine's forearm was a net of white scars. All thin and straight, overlapping and some finishing with twisted ends. Kurt ran his finger over one and felt the tiny ridge. He hadn't noticed them before. _Thank God these are old scars. Oh Blaine..._ There was no other explanation for what they were. He reached under the pillow and carefully withdrew Blaine's other arm. It had the same sick decoration. Kurt sucked in a deep breath as he gazed at the once mutilated arms. _How could Blaine have done this to himself? Just...why? _He must have stopped though. The scars were all completely healed over. He bent down and kissed the marked skin, before making up his mind to try waking Blaine. There was no way his Dad would give in.

"Blaine." Kurt gently shook the boy's shoulder, deliberately avoiding his arms.

He didn't even stir.

"Blaine, baby, you need to wake up." Kurt's heart swelled at the endearment, but deflated when he simply clutched the pillow tighter, muttering something incoherent.

He shook him harder, and Blaine began to murmur more loudly. "...ad...orry...pl..."

Kurt untangled his arms from the pillow as the boy went boneless again. Blaine reached out, whining at the cold, apparently still asleep. He simply tugged down another pillow, nuzzling his face into it.

Kurt smiled at the scene. _Why won't he wake? Oh my God, he probably has concussion from the cut on his head. _"Blaine," he said loudly, pulling the boy into a sitting position.

Blaine cringed away from him. When he opened his eyes he looked guilty and edged back over to Kurt, wincing.

"Hey Kurrr..." His voice slurred with sleep. He couldn't see much anyway to be honest, and his contact was making his eye itch; he popped it out and dropped it onto the little table next to Kurt's bed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep, I'll be gone soon!" Blaine leapt out of the bed, falling to his knees when his stomach twisted painfully.

"Blaine."

"Just give me one minute, Kurt, I'll be gone."

"Blaine."

"Where the fuck is my shirt?" He patted around blindly at the dark red spot on the floor.

"Blaine!"

He looked up. "Yes?"

"Calm down. My Dad won't let you stay any longer, so I guess you will have to go home – I'm taking you. But not before I've sorted out your head."

"Thanks babe."

Kurt helped him to his feet and made him sit next to the bath and lean his head back. He massaged his scalp so gently it didn't irritate the tenderness, and thoroughly washed out all of the blood. _So maybe Dad said he had to be gone in quarter of an hour, but shit, I can't leave him in this state. I have to give him a lift at least. _

* * *

"I'm going now Kurt. I don't want to mess with your Dad, I can see how important he is to you."

_Surprising statement from Blaine..._

"Are you sure-"

"Yeah babe!"

Kurt headed back towards his house. Even though their hands remained linked, Blaine had become distant during the drive back and had insisted on being dropped at the end of his road; he had seemed absolutely positive that it was what he wanted. _Almost as if he's scared I'll find out about something. Or maybe that...oh. I don't know. _Now he had a whole weekend without Blaine to think about it. It sounded like it was going t be a long weekend.

* * *

**A/N Hope you liked it :) I was wondering earlier; is it just girls reading this? Just out of interest. **

**And also OMG guys! If you love badboy!blaine as much as me you have to watch this. I can't believe how long it's taken me to find it, but it's so awesome! Some of you have probably seen it already but here it is (get rid of the spaces, you tube goes betwee . and . c o m)**

**w w w . . c o m ****/watch?v=epbpLIZxaFg&feature=player_detailpage&safe_search=on**

**Thanks so much for reading guys! Reviews = xxxxx **


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N Chapter 12! I wasn't not sure, but I thought 'Tylenol' was like an American version of Ibuprofen, and they always seem to have it in Klaine fics, so I put it. Sorry if it's wrong - please correct me :)**

**asdfghjkl 38 reviews!**

**Thanks so much for all of the encouragement, especially to msdarque, anderpson and unusualblainers! You guys are totally awesome! :D ****Hope you enjoy the update!**

**D/C I don't own glee.**

* * *

"You said you wanted to talk to me, Dad."

"Yeah...yes."

Kurt sat down opposite Burt at the table. He'd just finished doing laundry; basically getting the bloodstains out of his sheets. If his Dad had noticed them when he walked in, he hadn't commented. This seemed odd, so Kurt assumed he'd been too preoccupied with covering his eyes and not freaking out.

"Okay. I'm just going to ask and I want you to answer truthfully."

"Yes Dad."

"Is Blaine your boyfriend?"

"Yes. At least, we haven't officially said so, but we've basically agreed."

_Oh God – what if he doesn't want to be boyfriends?_

"Why the hell does Blaine look like he's been fighting? Because I don't want you hanging around with him if he's trouble-"

"I don't know Dad. He won't tell me. It-it's causing him a lot of pain though. His face, and his...ribs, I think."

"Why not? He's keeping secrets already...Kurt, I don't think-"

"He wants to tell me Dad! I can tell. He just can't."

Burt passed a hand over his eyes wearily. "Errm. Right, why did I come home to you...and him, when you had skipped school? I'm not mad-well, I am mad, but I want a decent explanation. One minute from now."

"You saw his face Dad! He's been off for the past two days because of his injuries, I think, and he came to school looking dead. And then when we were-" Kurt realised what he was about to tell his father. "Erm, anyway, the back of his head has this big cut on it and it wouldn't stop bleeding. He refused to let me fetch the nurse and I wasn't about to let him drive home like that!"

Burt's face softened. "That...actually makes sense, though you should have got the nurse. I'm proud of you Kurt, I guess, but I think he's a bad influence. I don't want him around you if he's going to get into fights and God knows what else."

"Dad, please stop judging him. You don't know him."

"Alright kiddo. I do want to meet him though. Then I will judge him."

"...sure Dad."

* * *

Blaine leant on the wall behind his house. _How the fuck did I get down in the first place? I can't even stretch without pain now. _With his ribs, it had taken him about forty five minutes to walk down the length of his road. It didn't help that he had to avoid his homophobic neighbours when they came out of the house because he couldn't fight back against any slurs in this state. He knew his father would be getting back soon, if only briefly, because he'd seen the car outside still. Meaning he'd be back for another night. Another night too long. _If he stays here again for awhile... it might return to how it was before he married that bitch._

Blaine finally released the limp he'd been resisting all day. He ached all over, but he had to get up there, before his father got back from wherever he'd spent the day. _Probably drinking._ He placed his hand on the drainpipe that replaced the stairs he could no longer use. He just couldn't.

* * *

Kurt sat up on his newly sheeted bed, reading his texts. The ones from Blaine, of course. _I can't believe how different he was today. I almost forgot what a jerk he was at school. Finn's going to be back soon. I hope Mercedes doesn't come... I don't really want to try and work out a decent explanation. _Kurt wasn't sure what he was planning on telling her. He couldn't exactly tell her the truth because Blaine had been so protective of his injuries that he wasn't sure it was his story to tell. He'd just have to wing it when they asked.

_Oh crap... we haven't done any of the project. And it's due on Monday I think. _He was going to have to do some now. Or ask Blaine to come over at the weekend. He didn't really want to ask Blaine – he wanted Blaine to come to him, rather than the other way round. He needed to be sure Blaine wanted this to be a relationship. The doubts had started to grow, even though he was sure Blaine cared for him. It was clear that Blaine was scared of the idea, and maybe he wasn't ready to let Kurt in fully. Kurt would wait as long as he needed to be let in, but he had to know that Blaine wasn't going to change his mind once he thought about it and go back to treating him like an object.

Kurt walked over to his desk, and untucked his bag from underneath it, his hand brushing against something leathery. _Wait...leather? I don't wear leather. _He tugged on the material and pulled out Blaine's jacket. He must have forgotten it. Kurt really wanted to put it on. He knew it was silly, but already he missed the feeling of being wrapped in Blaine's warm arms. Giving in, Kurt pushed his arms through the soft jacket, and breathed in deeply. A blend of Blaine's unique smell, old cologne, smoke and oil enveloped him. It was so comforting. The jacket was too broad; although he was several inches taller than Blaine and by no means weedy, his stature was far more lithe and narrow than Blaine's muscular stockiness. It hung off his shoulders, but the arms were too short. He found Blaine's smallness endearing, and it made him want to just sit hugging him.

Kurt sighed. He had to do something about the project.

* * *

Blaine collapsed against the wall, breathing deeply. His torso felt like it was being torn open. A wave of nausea rose in his throat and he dry heaved. There was nothing in his stomach to throw up, so he just kept retching. When the spasms faded, he sank down onto his knees, hugging his stomach and trying to hold himself together. In his haste to leave, he'd left his jacket in Kurt's room, and his contact lens. He shivered in the cold night air.

_Kurt. _

Being held in Kurt's arms felt like it happened in another lifetime. _Which it did_, he supposed. School and home. _One of which has got infinitely better, the other infinitely worse._

He dug into his pocket and lit a cigarette. He needed to calm down before working out what to do. The pungent smoke wove down his throat as he took a long drag. He exhaled it slowly and felt the tension slip away. There were times when all he wanted was to feel and he would force that upon himself, but now he just wanted everything to leave him alone for a while, everything to drift off for a few precious minutes.

After a few more deep breaths he flicked the glowing end off the tube. After carefully stubbing the end on his jeans, he tucked the valuable half smoked cigarette into his pocket. The scars that marred his arms glared accusingly up at him, so he shoved his sleeves down, missing the extra warmth on his biceps. He pushed away the guilt threatening to consume him and slowly straightened his legs out, wincing as they clicked loudly. No sign of his father.

Yet.

_Time to leave. _

He had no idea where he was going, but he wasn't getting up there tonight, that was for sure. _Let him find my bed empty. It's happened enough before and it's not like he even cares._ Blaine crept in through the back wall and swallowed a noise of shock when he felt a piece of glass pierce his foot through the base of his shoe. Not being able to see properly sucked. He gingerly lifted himself onto his bike and unlocked it from the bar. The room stank of sweat and drink, so he kicked the bike into ear and revved it quietly, before hurrying out, unable to stand the smell of his father for any longer.

_I think that Mohawk dude said he was having a party... _He needed to drown his sorrows.

* * *

Kurt groaned and buried his face into the old leather he was lying on. "Born That Way" was blasting out of his phone. Dragging himself fully out of his slumber, he grabbed his phone and stared at the top right corner... _two o'clock? What the hell? This had better be good..._he squinted at the name on the screen..._Blaine? Oh my god, it's Blaine! _His insides did a tiny jig before he realised he was pissed with the boy for waking him.

"_...or capital H-I-M, put your..."_

"Blaine?"

"Hey Kurttt!" Blaine slurred into the phone. He could background noise of heavy metal and yelling.

"What the hell Blaine! You woke me up! Are you drunk?"

"I've only had a few drinks..." He could actually hear him pouting. "...But Kurt! THIS IS THE BEST PARTY EVER!"

Woah, drunk Blaine was pretty excitable apparently. And loud.

"Except you're not here..."

Once again, a pout was evident in his voice. _Nawww. That's kinda cute. _

"Where are you Blaine?"

"I don't know!" he said cheerfully. "I'm at that guy with hair like a caterpillar's house...I think. Are you coming?"

_Hair like a caterpillar? Only one person to fit that description. Puck._

"I don't think so Blaine! It's two in the morning...remind me why you called...?"

"Oh okay. I wanted to hear you say stuff! I reckon I'm gonna drive around the place now, Kurr."

_Drive? _Kurt made up his mind. _The things I'd do for this boy..._

"Don't you dare Blaine. I'm coming to get you now. Try not to be stupid."

"But I am stupid Kurrr. I'm lost!"

_What the...! _"Lost where?"

"I don't know..."

"Okay, I'll be there soon." Wherever the fuck he was.

Kurt pulled on jeans and a t-shirt, bypassing his scarf and hoping that everyone at the party would be too smashed to see or care about his hickeys. And hopefully to notice that their favourite punch bag was there. Puck couldn't always protect him and Finn wasn't there; he'd asked, but his mother had refused, saying it would put extra stress onto Burt knowing that one of his sons was out at Puckerman's party. And now one of them would be, though hopefully Burt would never find out.

Kurt drove towards Puck's house. He could pretty much remember where it was, having been to a party there once before. That party had made him promise to himself that getting drunk was something he would never do again. He always seemed to make a fool of himself, but trying to kiss Puck was so embarrassing. Especially since Puck was too wasted to even worry about the fact he was male, and had started kissing back. Since he couldn't actually remember this, he hadn't counted it as his first kiss; he'd only seen a few blurred phone photos. Enough to make him feel absolutely mortified, though surprisingly Puck hadn't even seemed bothered. His kiss with Blaine yesterday was his first, he insisted it was.

Once he reached the right road, he could hear the heavy beat, music following soon afterwards. He pulled to a stop outside the right house and dodged a few people making out in the front garden. Thankfully none of them were Blaine.

Kurt walked purposefully through the packed house, giving Puck a fist bump when he heard the cry of "My boy, Kurt!" The smell of weed was pretty strong in some areas, but he was relieved to find the air clearing when he reached the back room.

His eyes fell on Blaine, who was lying on a sofa with his legs hooked over the back, his head upside down. _A few drinks...yeah, right._

Suddenly, he was knocked off his feet as a solid body whacked into him. He fell against the wall, but was tugged back up by the body that was wrapped around him, mouth pressed onto his neck, in full view of plenty of homophobic jocks.

"You came, Kurt, you came!"

"Errm, yes Blaine. Let's get you home, okay?"

"NO! I can't go home Kurrrt! My Dad'll ki-" Blaine started to pull away.

Kurt sighed at the loss of shared warmth, but caught Blaine by the shoulder. _I can't leave him here like this, I can't take him home because his Dad will- kill him? If I can keep him quiet, then maybe._

"Blaine, I'll take you to my place if you promise to be quiet."

Blaine looked into his eyes and nodded mutely. He glanced around the room, and saw a dark figure in the corner of the room seeming detached from the world, bent over a beer bottle. The figure shifted, and he met eyes with Karofsky.

He took the boy's hand quickly and led him out, hurrying away from his main tormentor. _Why did he say he was lost? He's clearly not. _Blaine followed him like a puppy. It was pretty adorable the way he completely lost his bad boy persona when he was drunk or tired.

"Right, Blaine, if you feel sick I want you to tell me immediately and be sick out the window."

"I won't be sick..." Blaine puked over Puck's front garden hedge.

"Okaay. If you're throw up in my car I will end you. Understood?"

"Yeah."

Blaine was sick once more on the way home, mercifully using the open window and not getting any on the car. Kurt knew it was pretty anti-social to leave it on the road, but he figured Puck was going to have to clean up his road anyway, so it didn't matter. It didn't stop the feeling of guilt though.

He gave Blaine another warning about keeping his mouth shut, and gently pulled him into the house. He led him down into the basement and pushed so that he was sitting on the bed.

"Blaine!" he hissed, when the boy started to strip. He grabbed an old t-shirt of Finn's and a pair of sweatpants and ordered him to put them on. He went to the bathroom and got Blaine a cup of water and some Tylenol. He quickly changed into his pyjamas and then headed out. Blaine was sitting on the floor, dressed in the sweats. After forcing him to take the tablet, he climbed into his bed and made space for Blaine, blushing at the fact that his jacket was still where he rested his head. He tossed it onto the pile of Blaine's clothes and tugged the curly haired boy down to lie on the other side of the bed.

"You're amaaaaaaaaaazing, Kurt."

Kurt stiffened at the bleary phrase. "I know." He smiled. "Go to sleep."

Blaine rolled over and pushed his head insistently onto Kurt's chest. He tensed for a second, and then relaxed with the new weight warm and reassuring on his chest.

* * *

**A/N So, now I've tasted what it's like to write fluffiness, I can't really help myself from adding tiny bits amongst the angst that I apparently can't escape :) I love drunk Blaine! He's so fun to write!**

**Reviews...? xxx**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N Firstly...hey! Another update here! And _42_reviews - anyone else a hitchiker's guide fan? Yes, no? I'm sure it's a good sign!**

**To 'guest' who wrote this...  
**"**1. This story is perfect  
2. Kurt is perfect  
3. Blaine is perfect  
4. You are perfect  
5. I think I'm in love with this story  
6. I think I'm in love with you  
7. I will buy you cake if you include some Blaine/Burt innuendo rudeness soon  
8. Please please pretty please with a cherry on top update soon!"**

**1. This made me laugh!  
2. I love you too!  
3. Hmmm...cake.  
4. Knowing my obsession with awkwardness, I woud say Blaine/Burt's meeting is coming soon!**

**Thanks so much for the continued support everyone :) Hope you enjoy the chapter. I got a it carried away, so it's super long winded, I hope you don't mind :) it's fairly fluffy though xxx 3**

**D/C I don't own glee!**

* * *

_Blaine chewed the ear of his plush puppy. The soft toy was a faded white with floppy ears and soft paws, completely squashy and with the stitching coming apart down its back seam. He stood in the door and watched with wide eyes._

'_Why is Daddy hurting Mummy?' Blaine thought. 'He's going to bouze her.'_

_He ran forwards and tried to get Daddy's attention. _

"_Daddy! Stop hurting Mummy!"_

_Michael Anderson took one look at his son and stormed out._

"_Go to bed sweetheart, I'll tuck you in soon."_

"_But Mummy!"_

"_Go, Blainey."_

_Blaine ran away, thinking about what he had just seen. He clutched his puppy and waited for Mummy._

_He whimpered when he heard a bang. Why isn't Mummy here yet?_

"_Mummy, you sa..." Blaine scurried out of his room, ran halfway down the stairs, then stopped. "Daddy! Help, Mummy's fallen down! We have to call an ambibunce!"_

_Michael grabbed his son's wrist tightly. "You little shit. If you speak a word about this to anyone, I will kill you. If people ask, Mummy had an accident."_

_Blaine nodded, tears brimming in his eyes as he watched Daddy march out the front door._

"_Mummy?" He touched her wrist. "Mummy, why are you so cold?"_

"_Mummy!" _

* * *

Blaine woke with a cold sweat, shivering. Tears ran down his cheeks. That dream never got any blunter.

His head felt like it was splitting in half, and he groaned, shutting his bleary eyes. _Where the fuck am I?_ _Oh yeah. I went to Puckerman's party, and then...oh I don't know. _He sat up too quickly, and screwed up his face when his head began to spin. Slowly opening his eyes, he took in the grey room he was sitting in. Squinting his eyes, Blaine looked at the blurry playbills and stylish furniture, thinking. _This looks familiar._

"Nnnghhhhhhhh..."

He jumped. Turning around, he made out a slender figure on the bed behind him. With silky brown hair. All thoughts about his dream left him. _Kurt? What the... Oh my God, what have I done to him? _

"Fucking hell Kurt! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do this to you-"

Kurt looked up, confused. "Hey hey hey, Blaine! Calm down. What do you mean?"

"Well, I meant it when I said I wanted to date you and all that shi-stuff, and I wanted to do this properly and yeah. You deserve better than this, Kurt."

"Errm, Blaine? I have no idea what you're talking about."

They looked at each other for a minute. Blaine's head throbbed loudly.

"Oh." Kurt broke the silence. "Can you remember anything about last night?"

"No! Please tell me I didn't...molest you or anything!"

Kurt blushed crimson. "Oh God no! You di-we didn-no!" Kurt was starting to go purple.

_Oh. Okay. Phew. _"Can I ask you something babe?"

"Anything."

"You haven't ever had se-"

"Is it getting hot in here? Cause seriously!" Kurt tugged on his vest.

"Babe, calm down. I'm not judging."

"Sorry, I'm a little uncomfortable in that, um, particular area of things. And no. I understand if you don't want to be with me." He whispered the last bit, curling his hands together.

"If I don't want to be with you? Kurt, I told you that you make me want to be better, and damn it! I meant it and it scares me. It scares me that I'm admitting it so freely, but I meant it." Blaine pressed his fingers against the bridge of his nose. "Sorry babe, my head just feels like shit happened and I don't know how I even got here, and on top of that I'm not good enough for you. You don't know how much of a fuck-up I really am, and I was an asshole to you and I am to everyone, in fact I am an asshole!" Blaine got progressively louder until he felt a soft touch on his wrist.

"Shh. Don't say those things. And my Dad might kinda kill me if he finds out you're here." Kurt's eyes were still bright with sleep and something else.

"Sorry. I think I left my jacket here before, you know, your father walked in."

"Oh, yeah." Kurt reached down onto his pillow and picked it up. Blaine watched with raised eyebrows.

"Were you-"

He pointed at its former position.

Kurt flushed. "I-erm"

"That's so-"

"Weird, creepy?"

"I was going to say sweet. And also hot."

Blaine watched his face deepen in colour and then crept forward, ignoring the protest from his head. He kissed Kurt gently on the lips, warmth rushing into him when the boy put a hand over his mouth to hide a grin after their lips parted.

He dug through the pockets, feeling for the chunky frame of his glasses.

"Don't laugh." _Am I really about to let Kurt of all people see me wearing these? _

He whipped them out and pushed them onto his nose, flinching when they pushed past his bruised eye.

And then was shocked when he felt a pair of slim but soft hands grab the t-shirt he was wearing and smash their lips together. He let Kurt kiss him for about ten seconds before the boy pulled away, glasz eyes swirling with turquoise emotion.

They looked at each other for another few seconds before Kurt mumbled, "I'm having a shower. See you in ten minutes, tops?"

"Ten minutes!"

"I have a very detailed shower schedule and I'm cutting the last fifteen minutes for you sake! Do not complain!" Kurt sniffed, before stepping smartly into his bathroom.

_Twenty five minute shower? Geez! _Blaine lay back on the bed, grabbing the glass of water next to Kurt's bed and downing it in one, hoping Kurt wouldn't mind. Which he knew he wouldn't. _Because Kurt is fucking perfect in every way. _He stuck his hands behind his head and completely relaxed his body, wondering vaguely whose clothes he was wearing. They were too big to be Kurt's, so... anyway. All he wanted to do was sleep off his hangover. And kiss the beautiful boy who was willing to be his.

* * *

Kurt quickly squirted his Andrew Barton shampoo into his hand and massaged it hastily through his hair. The smell of vanilla and jasmine infused itself in his hair as he left it for half the recommended minute, before washing it out thoroughly. He repeated the process with his conditioner, and then scrubbed his face.

Once he was dry, he wrapped his towel around himself and realised what he'd done. _I forgot clothes. Stupid Kurt! Blaine's out there... _He deliberated the situation. _Just do it._

Kurt slipped out of the bathroom, and sighed with relief when he saw Blaine asleep on the bed. He seemed to always sleep curled up, and the pillow thing was rapidly becoming familiar. His chunky arms had a deep red cushion – _the cushion I was sleeping on, _Kurt thought happily – tucked into his chest, and his incredibly long dark eyelashes were casting little shadows across his bronze cheek, joined by those made by the thick rims of his glasses. Kurt smiled; they made him look so cute and...dorky. He'd just had to kiss the worry off his face. It was such a perfect image, but as soon as he shifted and revealed his eye, it became upsetting. Kurt remembered that he was supposed to be over the shock by now, but he couldn't help but choke back a sob.

He turned his back and rifled through his closet, quickly selecting a pair of jeans and a t-shirt – far more casual than anything he'd usually wear, but he was half-naked and Blaine could wake up any minute.

After quickly pulling them on in the bathroom, he went out into his room and started to apply his moisturisers. Blaine was still completely out of it.

Once he had started on his hair, he switched on some music really quietly; he didn't want to wake Blaine.

He added the finishing touches to his normal hairstyle, and then stood looking at the boy lying on his bed. He looked really fragile.

"Blaine?" He shook his shoulder. No response. He sure is a heavy sleeper. _God, I hope he doesn't react like last time. _

"Blaine?"

He leant down and pressed a kiss onto his forehead. Then tumbled down as Blaine tugged him down next to him, smirking.

"Hey! Don't do that! I was worried!"

Blaine caught his pout in-between his lips and gently nibbled at them.

"I don't think you mind. Can I have a shower babe, before I go? If you don't mind?"

"Course you can," Kurt realised he was basically giving Blaine permission to be naked in his shower, "but you'll have to be quick, Dad is pretty good at coming down at the wrong time. In case you didn't notice."

"I will, babe." One final peck on the lips and Blaine was limping across the room, disappearing through the door. That limp was really worrying Kurt. _I think there's something wrong with his ribs. He hid it well, but when I hugged him earlier, he winced a tiny bit._

He heard the water switch on.

* * *

Blaine turned off the water after quickly washing away the disgusting sweatiness that was an extra bonus of becoming wasted along with the killer hangover. He ran a hand through his hair, assessing the softness of the wound on the back of his head. It felt like it had scabbed over. His hand still felt like shit, and so did his ribs. He was pretty sure the concussion had gone, but his face was still split into two contrasting halves, the swelling around his eye still a deep purple. He slid his glasses back up his nose and looked at himself. The glasses had chunky black rims, were rectangular and made him look like a complete geek. Like the guy he had been before he came out.

"-kay dude, see you later."

"Bye Finn."

Blaine heard the voices through the door.

He waited as he heard heavy footsteps ascend the stairs. He poked his head around the door and scanned the room for Kurt. He was groping under the bed, pulling out his shoes. "I hid them under here - Finn came in. He's normally asleep until midday. Lucky he didn't notice the water turn off."

He glanced up, and Blaine walked in wearing his towel. Kurt looked away hurriedly. Blaine felt a small wave of smugness ripple through him.

Kurt passed him another set of clothes, eyes still focussed on the ground. "-ittle bead of water, chest, damned ho-"

"Kurt?" Blaine asked incredulously.

"Oh my gaga, was I saying that out loud?" Kurt looked mortified.

"Saying what?" Blaine said innocently; he didn't really want to embarrass the boy further, even he was adorable when he blushed.

"Nothing." Kurt smiled. "Wear these – I don't want you going home in those alcohol-y clothes you came in."

Blaine smirked. _Ah, so many ways I could twist that sentence. No! Bad Blaine! _Stopping innuendoes was so difficult though. They were a habit. "Well, I don't remember coming in them, but I'm sure we could corre-"

Kurt smacked him gently on the shoulder.

"Sorry babe."

He pulled the jeans on whilst Kurt averted his eyes in horror – Blaine pretty much had no self-consciousness, but Kurt was awkward enough for the pari of them. Kurt stopped him for a second as he started to pull the old football jersey over his head. He ran his fingers along the top edge of the bandage, and then allowed him to continue. Once he was wearing his jacket, and had subtly retrieved his knife from where it had been lying on Kurt's vanity underneath a cloth, he heard Kurt say, "Okay, now we've got to sneak you out."

Kurt held him by the right hand this time, and they crept out of the basement. Kurt grabbed his keys, and then they tiptoed out of the house. No sign of anyone.

They got out the door successfully, and then climbed into Kurt's car. Burt's van was gone, so he assumed he was at the garage. Kurt drove Blaine to Puck's house, where his motorbike was leaning against the front wall. Luckily, no one seemed to be up in the house, so they weren't faced with being persuaded to help Puck clear the area.

Once he had wheeled it out, he acted on instinct and wrapped his arms around Kurt in a massive, desperate hug.

"I'll see you soon, right?" Blaine asked. It felt odd baring his soul like he had been doing recently.

"I hope so – Dad wants to meet you though." Kurt grimaced.

"Okay. Can we just get it over with? Like, tomorrow or something?"

"Really?"

"Yeah. I-fuck-parents don't like me Kurt, so I just want to get this over with."

"I'll ask Dad and text you later. Drive SLOWLY Blaine."

"Like a grandpa, I promise."

Kurt giggled, and then kissed his cheek, squeezing his hand.

"See you."

Blaine drove off, immediately feeling all of his problems rushing back to him. _I didn't go home last night. Dad will assume... I'm so dead. _He assessed the situation tiredly.

* * *

When Kurt got back, he was greeted by Carole, who opened the door with a chipper, "Hi sweetie!"

He followed her into the kitchen and she made him sit down whilst she got out a pot of left-over breakfast fruit salad she'd made a few days previously. She sat down opposite him and put out two bowls.

"So, was that anyone special? You know, sneaking out...?" Her eyes twinkled teasingly.

Kurt dropped his head into his hands. _What is it with people in this house? There are no secrets!_

* * *

**A/N There we have it - another chapter :) I hope it wasn't disappointing/ boring, or generally bad, cause I know nothing really happens!**

**See you soon! Reviews = :D :D :D :D :D :D :D **


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N Hello. Hope this chapter is okay...I started to run out of half-decent innuendoes here, so it starts to die about halfway through, but I hope you like it anyway :) x**

**D/C I don't own glee.**

* * *

Sunday

* * *

_**We've got the project due in for tomorrow, so do you want to meet Dad later? **_

**From Blaine**

**Sure babe, what time? **

_**I'd say about four, and then Carole says you should stay for the meal. Is that okay? **_

**From Blaine**

**Yup, see you xx**

Kurt's heart flipped when he saw the kisses. _Yay!_

Carole had apparently not been told anything by his Dad the day before, so he had basically told her that he had been fooling around with Blaine and his Dad walked in. It was pretty embarrassing, especially as Carole was really excited for him, despite the fact she had heard an awkward outline of what had happened on Friday. And then he had to explain to her why he was sneaking Blaine out in the morning. The silver lining of being forced to explain why he was smuggling a boy out at eight o'clock in the morning yesterday was that she'd promised not to tell Burt, unless he asked directly.

Okay, so it was two o'clock; he now had two hours to prepare his Dad. And get changed himself. And for once, he thought that the most important was the former.

* * *

Blaine looked at his watch. Three forty five. He made his way around the end of Kurt's road. So maybe he had been there already for half an hour. It wasn't like he had anything to do today, and he'd only crept in his window for about one minute to grab some clothes, wash and get changed. Then he'd been out like a bullet.

Getting to sleep without a warm body to lie on had been strange. It was something he had done everyday of his life – he'd never let anyone stay after fucking with them - and now it had happened twice in forty eight hours, leaving him tossing and turning half the night when he tried to sleep. He'd spent the night in the old shed behind the house where he'd set up a make-shift bed for the nights his Dad would bring 'friends' home. By friends he meant prostitutes, Blaine had always known, but never mentioned. There was no way he was going to go in after not being there for a night. He wanted to be capable of going to school, and his Dad was STILL at home. He'd started to worry that the bitch had kicked him out and he was permanently staying. _Unlikely though. She could never stand up for herself. Like Mom. And look where that got her. _He shook his head. He had got to stop letting morbid thoughts swallow him up. He had Kurt now, right? _I think. _

He stopped outside the familiar looking house and walked up the drive to the door. Two minutes to three. His right hand hovered over the knocker when doubtful thoughts started to invade his brain. _Is it rude to be early, or rude to be late? I mean seriously, there's 'fashionably late' and 'helpfully early' – no one seems to come on time anymore, I mean for fuck's sake! I wish I could ask Kurt, but that wou-_

The door opened and Kurt stood there. Dressed in painted-on red skinnies and a slim-fit shirt that was seriously making him look so hot. Blaine let his hand drop and stood looking at Kurt while the boy frowned, unable to stop himself leaning forwards. Kurt's frown melted and he was about to meet him when-

Someone cleared their throat loudly. "Break it up boys." Kurt's Dad was standing right behind Kurt. Kurt looked flustered and quickly opened the door, letting Blaine in.

"Um, Dad, this is Blaine. Blaine, my Dad." His usually high voice was a semi-tone higher than it usually was and the frown returned when he looked at Blaine.

"Hello Blaine, I'm so glad you could come," Burt said, holding out his hand. The words didn't really suit the man, and they sounded well-rehearsed, so Blaine was pretty sure Kurt must have had something to do with it.

* * *

Kurt watched as Blaine's face started to twist into a smirk. _No. Oh God no. I forgot that Blaine's naturally inclined to twist that word. Why didn't I get him to say...oh I don't know, visit, or accept our invitation or-_

"Well I haven't yet, but I'm sure Kurt will help me later." Blaine shook Burt's hand briefly.

_-WHAT THE HELL, BLAINE! So much 'make a good impression on the parents', especially the one who is already freaking against you! _

Blaine continued to smirk as Burt's face reddened. "I really don't think you should be here, youn-"

* * *

Blaine absorbed Kurt's death glare, but his father's words were stopped by a pretty lady who put a hand on Burt's shoulder, muttering something in his ear that sounded a lot like, "remember your heart, love". Burt walked into the kitchen stiffly.

Carole smiled enthusiastically at Blaine, who randomly thought _Awesome. I'm taller than her! No, shut up brain. _

"Hi sweetheart! I hope you don't mind eating now – Kurt's father and I have got an important visit to make after this and we've had to move dinner forward."

Blaine's heart shrunk when he heard the endearment.

_"Go to bed sweetheart, I'll tuck you in soon."_

One of the memories that regularly haunted him.

"Of course not, Mrs. Hummel."

"Call me Carole sweetie."

"Thanks Mrs. H...Carole."

Kurt seemed satisfied by this exchange, and reached out to take his hand when Carole turned her back and followed after her husband's lead.

"Couldn't you have toned this down a bit?" Kurt muttered out of the corner of his mouth gesturing towards him.

Blaine looked down surprised. He was wearing his best jeans; a dark wash pair that weren't too small, just tight enough to hug his thighs, and only had, like four rips in. On top he was wearing his cleanest white t-shirt and his black leather jacket. He wore the leather boots (the ones his Dad had chucked at him) which actually fit him, unlike his dead converse, so he thought he looked okay. _And super hot, but that's for Kurt to appreciate, not his Dad. Uh, weird way my mind works. _He'd even used a bit of hair gel to stop it sticking up everywhere before he'd climbed back out the window.

"Babe, this is smartest I own!"

Kurt looked at him in horrified silence for a moment. "I wasn't talking about that Blaine (but, hell am I taking you shopping), I meant, seriously. Did you have to innuendo my Dad? And it was a really lame one as well Blaine! Not that I want better ones, but can you just try to not?"

Blaine sighed. "I was, before I came in, drilling myself on clean answers, but it's like a defense mechanism; I'm trying, but my mouth just answers with them automatically. I'll try, but no promises."

He squeezed Kurt's soft hand.

"I suppose I can't ask for more than that," Kurt said grudgingly.

He walked towards the kitchen keeping their hands linked. When they reached the door, he unwove their fingers and gave him a stern smile. Blaine watched his ass sway into the kitchen and then followed. _That is seriously the most amazing ass I have ever seen. And that's saying something._

Blaine sat down in the empty seat next to Kurt and almost died in relief when Kurt took linked their fingers under the table. He might just make it through this alive. Or, more importantly, still in a relationship with Kurt. _He's turned me into a sap in one week. Shit._

He looked around the table subtly. There were three others apart from Kurt and himself – 'Carole', Mr. Hummel and some incredibly tall kid he recognized from the gym...Flint, or something. The Flint kid was looking at him, puzzled.

"Oh, I know you! You're that new dude; wait...Kurt, what the hell? This jerk is your boyfriend?"

Blaine opened his mouth to snap back, but then Kurt looked at him for confirmation and in warning. _Yes. Say yes to him for fuck's sake! _He nodded stiffly. Kurt's look of joy and the tightening around his hand made up for his discomfort. He could do this – be a boyfriend for Kurt.

"Finn-" _'Finn', that was it, _"Please don't be rude to our guest." Carole shot Burt a silencing look as she delivered her speech. She went over to the semi-separate cooking area and fetched a dish of lasagne, placing it in the centre of the table.

God, he missed the food they served at Dalton whilst he was there. It had been so good. He hadn't eaten anything like this for about three years.

Once Carole had served out the food, the family started to chat about normal life and how they Burt and Carole were visiting Finn's aunt later because she had had a baby and...all normal family stuff. He tried not to break down as he listened to it; it was all he'd wanted for so long. Family. He focused solely on not shoveling the food down his throat and eating politely, unlike Finn. God, it was hard though.

"Blaine?"

Blaine looked up at Carole. "Yes Mrs. Hummel?"

"Carole, sweetie. And we were just asking how long you've gone to McKinley for. I don't think we've seen you before."

Finn piped up, "His first day was Monday."

Carole shushed him. "Really? Where did you go before?"

"Erm, I went to Dalton Academy until I was fifteen."

Kurt's ears perked up. Blaine hadn't really given away any of his past before.

"Isn't that that private school in Westerville?"

"Yup. Fancy as hell."

Carole looked surprised by the gruffness of his answer. _I don't want to talk about Dalton. _

"Language at the table, Blaine."

He rolled his eyes at the mothering tone she was taking. "Sorry Carole."

Burt finally spoke. "What did you do before you came here then?" He sounded confused.

"An awful lot of hot guys, though Kurt here tops the lot. Though I'm pretty sure he wouldn't be the one to be toppi-"

"Okay, Blaine!" Kurt practically yelled, flushing. Out of the corner of his mouth, he mumbled, "Can you turn it off please? The overly-defensive inappropriate comments factory?"

Blaine barely suppressed a smirk at the murderous look on Burt's face.

"Um, I went to the Juvenile Detention centre in Westerville."

Burt still had steam coming out of his ears, so Carole spoke up.

"That's...interesting, dear. So when did you two meet?"

Blaine looked vaguely surprised by the fast change of subject; he'd kind of expected them to latch onto the reform school past, but Carole had just moved the conversation on. Admittedly, Burt was starting to explode, but he hadn't said anything about it. Yet.

Kurt answered this time, gripping Blaine's hand with a harsher intensity. "We sit next to each other in English and Mr. Rogers gave us a project to complete."

"A very fun project, may I add," Blaine interjected with yet another smirk.

_Wow, I am on fire!_ _Oh shit, Kurt's giving me a ice bitch glare. _

"No, you may not, Blaine." _Ohhh, scary Kurt. _"And we were doing it in the library together." _That was only slightly a lie. I mean he could've told his parents that he yelled at me for coming on to him, but...that doesn't seem like a very Kurt way of dealing with stuff. Not to mention our up-and-coming detentions._

"Yup. We were doing i-arrgghh!" He moaned in pain when Kurt elbowed him in the ribs, wrapping his arm around his side.

"Fuck Kurt...sorry Carole...shit, shit, shit."

"I forgot, I'm so sorry Blaine!"

"Don't worry babe." He grimaced and straightened up. "Erm, I'm sorry."

The rest of the family watched the pair interact in silence.

Carole smiled softly at the tenderness in Kurt's eyes when he apologised to Blaine, wondering vaguely how sharp Kurt's elbows must be.

Burt narrowed his eyes at the way Blaine called Kurt 'babe', feeling a sense of satisfaction in the way that Kurt had elbowed the boy.

Finn kept eating, shivering at memories of suffering the same fate (Kurt had really pointy arms, which he certainly wasn't afraid to use).

The pair seemed to have forgotten that there was anyone else in the room, so when Blaine kissed Kurt's palm softly, Burt (very cleverly, he thought) dropped his knife onto his plate.

The clattering noise brought them back to earth, and there was an awkward silence. Carole shot Burt a look that said _"I know what that was for."_

"So, Finn. How did the football trial go?" Kurt asked him, with more interest than he would normally ever show.

Finn launched into an explanation and the rest of the meal passed quickly, Blaine's stomach begging for seconds, but his mouth politely declining when Carole offered. Finn had no qualms about taking more, but Blaine didn't want Burt to hate him anymore than he probably already did, and being the kid that ate all of the food in the house didn't seem like a very good label. Admittedly better than the 'sexual-jerk taking advantage of Kurt', but still not great.

Burt hadn't spoken much during the meal, but when Finn finished, he said, "Blaine, I want to talk to you before I leave, but you two can go and get on with that project of yours for the time being."

Kurt leapt up, and Blaine slowly stretched his body into a standing position. They rushed towards the kitchen door, Blaine saying, "Thank you for the meal, Carole."

"Door open, boys!" Blaine grinned when he heard Kurt's dad yell. _Not if I have anything to do with it._

Which it turned out, he didn't.

When they got into Kurt's room, Blaine pushed Kurt against his door and moaned into a deep kiss.

"Oh no you don't, Blaine, we've got to do the project."

"Sorry, babe, but those jeans were killing me." He pointed at Kurt's pants.

Kurt smiled shyly. "I thought you'd like them. But we have to get on now! You're not getting any of that until you've satisfactorily made up for making my Dad almost die of horror at your stupid innuendoes."

"I tried, I swear." _Try the puppy dog eyes._

"No! Don't you dare use those against me. Project, now."

Kurt clicked his fingers, so Blaine settled with lying down on his front on Kurt's bed and looking up at him expectantly.

Kurt fetched the sheets and lay down next to him, handing him a pen. "Now, let me see some of this A* work then."

* * *

They spent thirty minutes, lying side by side, working through the analysis and then combining their work. They worked quickly, and Blaine was not lying about being a straight A student. Kurt could hardly believe how fast he had all of his points laid out and ready to swap with Kurt to merge into one essay. They wrote it out in a rough draft and Kurt placed it on his desk next to his computer. "I'll type it up later, now what? Do you want to watch a film?"

He felt a warm pair of lips on his neck and his legs nearly liquidised. "No, Blaine, my Dad's in the house."

"I just miss kissing you so much."

_Damn it Blaine! Now you choose to be frigging adorable! _Kurt twisted around in his grip, and responded to the mouth that was pressing insistently against his jaw, nibbling on Blaine's full lower lip. The boy moaned and Kurt resisted the urge to wind his hands in his dark brown locks. He always smelt so amazing, it was unfair. He placed his straying hands on Blaine's shoulders and gently pushed him backwards so that the backs of his knees hit the bed.

"Owwwww..." Blaine let out a whine. "I'm so sorry babe. I'm trying not to."

His face was so scrunched in worry and pain that Kurt had to drop a kiss onto his forehead. "Blaine...please tell me what's going on."

Blaine's face closed up. "I want to, Kurt, I trust you so much it scares me."

He squeezed his eyelids together, trying to contain the tears that were building up behind his mask. A single one escaping was all it took and he was tucked against Kurt's chest. _This is what it's like to be held. _"Thank you," he whispered.

Blaine clutched at Kurt's shirt and buried his face into his shoulder. "Can I show you?"

"Yes, baby."

Blaine began to unbutton his shirt, revealing the bandages underneath. Kurt helped him with delicate fingers until it easily able to slip over his shoulders.

Then someone arrived at the door. "Uh, guys? Burt wants to talk to Blaine. Like, now." Finn looked intensely uncomfortable with what he had walked in on. "Kurt, could you maybe shut the door when you guys are doing stuff, cause I don't really want to see my little brother and his boyf-"

"We're not doing anything Finn. And tell Dad Blaine's coming."

"Okay dude. And you," he pointed at Blaine, "treat my baby bro right. Or you'll have me and Puck and all the glee dudes to answer to." He lumbered back up the stairs.

Blaine pulled his shirt back on and buttoned it.

"Can we talk about this later?" Kurt asked gently.

Blaine pressed his knuckles into his forehead tiredly. "I hope so."

And then he was gone. _Oh God. Blaine plus Dad plus aloneness. This is so not got going to end well._

"Kurt, I need to talk to you about Blaine."

"Okay, Finn, come in."

* * *

**A/N Hopefully another update will be coming soon, cause I'm away basically all weekend, so I'm making up for it now :) I'd love to hear your opinion on the chapter...virtual cookies are actually on offer now in return for reviews! xxxxx**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N Hey! I'm so sorry about the massive wait - I kinda broke my computer and I didn't have an alternate copy of the first half of this chapter I'd already written, and I didn't want it to get disjointed, so... hence no update. Sorry :/**

**This chapter was really hard to write, and I know it's not great, but I felt like I needed to put it up after the fifth fruitless edit/read thing. I've rewritten it so many times, but I couldn't really sort it out...so here is my final version.**

**On a lighter note, virtual cookies to my reviewers (as they're virtual, they're pretty much whichever flavour you like)!...**

* * *

Kurt threw himself onto his bed angrily. _Why the hell does my Dad always have the worst timing ever?_

"What is it Finn?"

Finn looked uncomfortable for a second.

"He went to Juvie with Puck." The words tumbled out.

Kurt looked unimpressed. "And..?"

"Puck said that he was the one who owned the place. And Kurt, he said that it was Blaine's mates who tore out his nipple ring!"

Kurt shuddered. "Yeah, Blaine's _mates_, not Blaine. And anyway, that piercing was disgusting and tacky."

"Well you didn't say that about Blaine's eyebrow ring."

Kurt blushed. "That's different," he mumbled.

Finn digested the implications of Kurt liking a piercing.

Silence ensued as Finn wrinkled his forehead in thought.

"Eww! You haven't done stuff with it have you?"

"Finn! We haven't really done anything!"

"Not really? He's not forcing you, is he, cause I'll get Puck to help beat the cra-"

"No, he is not Finn. And if Puck was so scared of him in Juvie, then I don't see how he could help you."

Finn considered this. "Okay dude, just don't let him take advantage of you," he said, warily.

"It's none of you freaking business, Finn!" His concern was cute, but annoying.

"I don't like him. He's a jerk."

"Thanks for your input."

"You're welcome, dude."

"That was VERY sarcastic, Finn."

"Oh." Finn's face fell.

"Ugh, Finn, could you just go?"

"Okay," Finn mumbled, then walked out. Kurt filled with guilt. He didn't mean to be that horrible to him, but he was just so damned protective. _He's almost as bad as Dad._

* * *

"You're not pressuring my son, are you?"

"I care too much about him sir, I couldn't."

Burt had got Blaine sitting on a chair in the kitchen whilst he paced up and down. Blaine had dropped the attitude immediately when he mentioned his shotgun.

_In fact, _Burt thought, _he looks damn near terrified. _Blaine was twisting his hands nervously in his lap, and his eyes were wide. Burt scrutinized him a bit longer.

"Why were you sent to a reform centre?" The boy's face fell even more.

"Assault, possession and a load of other minor stuff." His voice faded at the end.

Burt face was stony.

"Possession of what?"

"Various shit."

"Like..."

He remained silent.

"And the assault?"

Blaine's face clouded over.

"Well I don't want you dragging him into any of this-" He gestured at Blaine's face "-fighting business, understood? To be honest, I don't want you near him, but I can see in his face that he won't let go of you easily."

Blaine nodded. "He won't, sir."

_Seriously, how much wider can his eyes get? _"If you don't treat him right, I will find you."

Blaine held his tongue.

"Answer." He put a rough hand on the boy's shoulder. Blaine flinched, standing up.

"Yes sir."

Burt, feeling awkward and stressed, gestured towards the door. "Alright, off you go. But, you'd better sort out that mouth of yours, because you're not coming in this house and using language like you were earlier. And I don't want any funny business upstairs."

When he'd stepped aside a little confidence had trickled back into Blaine's face. Once he had a clear run to the door.

"Thank you sir. I don't think Kurt would be letting me anyway." Then he was out the door.

_Kurt would let him what? Well that's confusing. Oh. Wait what! _There were about three ways he could interpret that. He chose the easiest one. Kurt not letting him use language like that. Anything else was getting far too close to thinking about him...doing stuff. With the apparently complete asshole that he'd brought home. With possible multiple personality disorder. Or something.

* * *

Kurt fiddled with the hem of his shirt. His Dad and Blaine had been down there a long while. He was lying back against the headboard with Blaine's jacket in his lap, and his legs crossed. He had been so close to getting through to him. If his Dad had messed him up again he was in a hell of a lot of trouble.

The door pushed open, and Kurt felt a huge smile grace his face when Blaine's tamed dark curls appeared.

"How did it go?" he asked, not sure whether he wanted to hear the answer.

"Okay, I guess." Blaine replied rather bluntly, dropping down onto the bed next to Kurt.

Kurt's heart sank like a stone. Blaine's face was definitely masked over now. _Daaaaaaaaaaaaaad! What the hell!_

"What did he ask you about?"

"I dunno."

Kurt sighed. "Blaine, what did he talk to you about?"

"He just reminded me why I'm bad for you." Blaine looked up, eyes pleading. "Why you deserve better."

"What the- Did he say that to you?" Anger infused Kurt's voice.

"No, but it reminded me."

"Hey, Blaine. Look at me." Kurt gently lifted his chin.

"Yeah?" He sounded miserable.

"You are perfect."

"You don't know what I've done. I was an idiot to you. I'm pretty sure that qualifies making me a complete fucking ass."

"You are perfect."

"I've fucked around with more guys than I can remember and I've never had a relationship before now."

"I don't care."

"I haven't told you why I was in Juvie, or what all this is about..." he gestured to his face.

"Blaine. You're not listening to me. You're perfect."

"But-"

Kurt cut him off by softly kissing his lips.

"Shh. You're perfect."

"Bu-"

He looked up hesitantly through his eyelashes at Kurt.

Kurt wrapped his arms around him for the second time that evening and just held him as he fell to pieces.

* * *

"Kurrrt! Your father and I are leaving now! Yes, Finn, go to Puck's house if you want, don't get back too late." Kurt heard Carole calling and replied with the quietest shout he thought he could get away with. Blaine had fallen asleep in his embrace and he didn't want to wake him up.

Blaine woke anyway. "I'm so sorry babe, I didn't mean to fall asleep on you again." He yawned widely, wincing.

"Don't apologise. You seemed so tired, I didn't want to wake you."

"I could sleep for a fucking decade, at least. What's the situation?"

"What?"

"How many people are there in the house?" Blaine smirked up at him.

"Errm, two I think."

"Including us?"

"Yeah."

Blaine's face was hovering so close to his own he was finding it hard to breathe. His warm breath washed over Kurt's face.

"Can I kiss you?"

Kurt was finding incoherency seriously annoying. He made a small noise of assent. Then Blaine was kissing him, not rushed and sloppy, but carefully and in a way that would've made Kurt turn into a puddle of goo if it hadn't meant that he'd have to stop kissing Blaine.

Blaine pulled back and rested his forehead against Kurt's. _Oh my God, cliché to cross off the list!_

Kurt gazed back at the split face in front of him. He was falling for this boy so hard after such a short time together.

He smiled simultaneously with Blaine, and then dropped his head onto the boy's strong shoulder.

"Do you want to continue the conversation we were having earlier...?" he asked, delicately.

"Which conversation?" Blaine's tone was guarded, and his arms tightened around Kurt's frame.

"About this." He stroked Blaine's face.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea babe."

Kurt dropped his hand from his face and watched as he twisted it in the boy's t-shirt. He tried a different tune. "What did Dad say to you?"

Blaine sighed deeply, and then spoke up. "He wanted to know what my intentions are, why I was in the WJDC and that I'm not going to get you mixed up in all my fighting shit."

_Great. _"Baby?" Kurt was still getting used to using the endearment, but it just slipped out.

Blaine looked up at him.

"What's the WJDC?"

"The Westerville Juvenile Detention Centre," Blaine said bitterly. "Fucking bane of my life. Nothing gets you judged faster than a record in that place."

"What did you tell him?"

Blaine fell silent again.

"Blaine! If you can tell my Dad, you can tell me, right?"

He mumbled something, avoiding eye contact.

"Baby, I can't hear you."

"I don't want you to hate me." He looked embarrassed by the admission.

"I won't, I promise."

"Possession of a class A drug, assault and some anti-social behaviour type stuff."

Kurt absorbed this. "Which drug?" he asked calmly.

"Heroin."

"Oh my God, Blaine, do you use heroin?"

"No! I was looking after it for a friend! I've never used it." Honesty was shining in his eyes.

"Do you use drugs? Besides cigarettes?"

"No, I used to use cannabis and I've tried crack, but I didn't again and I don't use weed any more. How do you know about the smoking? I swear I never smoked in front of you."

"You kind of taste vaguely like smoke, and your jacket smells like it."

Blaine looked horrified. "Seriously?"

"Yeah, but...I don't mind." Kurt said, embarrassed. "What I do mind is that it's really bad for you! It'll give you wrinkles!"

"What, not worried about lung cancer?" Blaine teased, regaining a bit of his usual confidence.

"Well, yeah; I wish you'd stop."

Blaine let his head flop back and he groaned. "I'll try babe. But not at the moment...if you don't mind. Give me a week."

"I'll hold you to that." _Why a week - does it really make that much difference?_ "Why do you need a week?"

"Well, they kinda cost a lot of money and I reckon I have enough to last a week and I don't want that money to go to waste."

Kurt raised his eyebrows at the statement, but said nothing. "Okay. What about, um, what about assault?"

"Can I just say one thing, babe?" Blaine sounded tired out.

"Whatever you like."

"It was provoked, strongly provoked, I swear."

"It's okay." Kurt was surprised to realize he meant it. _It doesn't matter to me what he's done. _

"Can we...change the subject, babe?" Blaine asked awkwardly.

Kurt agreed, _I don't want to push him too far. I can continue with this another day, right? _

Kurt began to talk to Blaine about glee and solos and the new Vogue, and much to his surprise, Blaine tried to contribute. Kurt sat back against Blaine, between his legs, fingers wound loosely together.

Kurt almost forgot about all of the issues surrounding Blaine's situation as they chatted. It was so...normal.

* * *

**A/N Ending = awful, but as I said, I lost the will to change it after a while. I'm probably going to upload this crazy!Warblers oneshot I wrote when I was meant to be working a while ago (later), so maybe you could check it out and say what you think? _(Probably _being the key word - I might forget, or whatever :D)**

**Anyway, thanks for reading and reviews? xxx**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N This is really short, and sort of filler-y, but it was just Klaine being fluffy and Carole being awesome!step mum, so I decided to post it , cause I can't for the life of me make it continue without sounding weird. Hence the fact that this is a mini separate chapter.**

**:D**

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Burt and Carole got back to the house at about half ten; the baby had been pretty cute, but now they were used to teenagers, gushing over it had been tiring. They had stayed out far longer than they originally intended. So, it seemed, had the owner of the motorcycle parked in their front yard.

"I told him he had to get rid of him at a suitable time..." Burt's voice was almost defeated.

Carole reached out and squeezed his hand. "Don't you remember what young love is like...?"

"Love! Who said anything about love?"

"Calm down, honey. Didn't you see the way that boy looked at Kurt?"

Burt looked annoyed by this analysis of their relationship. Carole shook her head as she opened the door of the house, taking in the leather boots next to the coat rack. They were scuffed within an inch of their lives, and splitting around the toe.

"Surely you'd rather Kurt had a boyfriend who cares about him?" she questioned quietly; the house was silent and it felt intrusive to talk normally.

"I'd rather he didn't have a boyfriend who was done for assault!"

"Calm down honey! I don't want a repeat of last year! And Blaine seemed to be a nice enough kid, even if he has a horrendous vocabulary. Plus, his past seemed to be something he doesn't want to remember."

"Nice enough? There is no nice enough, this is Kurt!" Burt fumed.

Carole smiled at him. He cared so much for his son, and it was one of the reasons she loved Burt so much – he may give off a coarse, working class, gruff appearance, but he was so loving and soft where his family were concerned.

"Come on, let's go upstairs."

"I'm checking on the boys first."

"Wait, honey." Carole said, deciding not to let her overprotective husband deal with it. She was pretty sure nothing would have happened, but she didn't want him waking them if they were asleep. "I'll go, you're not meant to be using the stairs too much. I'm not having you going down and then having to climb two flights before bed."

Burt grumbled about mollycoddling him, but agreed, unable to say no to Carole when she made up her mind. He slowly made his way up to their bedroom. Carole winced as she heard the stairs creaking under his footfalls, hoping it wouldn't wake Finn. He did sleep like a log though, so she didn't really have to worry.

Carole tiptoed down the stairs towards Kurt's basement room. She quietly opened the door and smiled at the sight that met her. The television was frozen on the credits of 'The Sound of Music' and casting an unnaturally white light over the two figures on the bed. Blaine's face looked washed out and ill in the different illumination. They were in the sweetest position, so Carole, feeling like a teenager, couldn't help but snap a picture on her phone to tease Kurt with the next day. Thankfully, Kurt had shown her how to use the camera; Burt was useless with phones, despite his skill with cars, and Finn seemed to get lost in any cell apart from his own. Kurt's back was leaning against Blaine's chest as the pair half-upright spooned. One of Blaine's arms was wrapped tightly around Kurt's waist, while the right was loosely linked with his slender hand, and Kurt was slightly twisted in his embrace so that his head could rest on the stocky boy's shoulder, Blaine's cheek laid gently on his hair.

She approached the adorable pair and reached for the remote. Once she had switched off the television, she tugged the scarf off Kurt's neck, folding it neatly – as a nurse she was naturally inclined to make sure he wasn't at risk...she really couldn't help it – and saw the patchy bruising it had been concealing. She allowed herself a small smirk, tugged a blanket over them, and then left the room. She was so glad Kurt had found someone, even though Blaine seemed to have a questionable past. Seeing the state of his shoes and jacket, she couldn't help but wonder whether his family were having money problems... Or something. And the bandage around his left hand hadn't escaped her notice. He was a puzzle.

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**A/N Thanks for sticking with me, despite my unreliable updates...etc. Hope you're enjoying the story so far ;) x**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N Sorry about the huge wait - I've been abroad (:D) which then meant I had jet-lag, followed the by the suckiest writers block EVER which I still had whilst I wrote this (why this is such a fail of a chapter). I wrote this against my own rules (about not writing with block) to try and cure it but oh well. Just another filler (like the last chapter, where Carole was just insisting that she would be awesome and I literally couldn't stop her [I was almost arguing with her in my head when I decided to just let her be freaking awesome]).**

**I meant to ask you guys if you think the speed I'm going at with the storyline is too slow or whatever coz I really have no idea - opinions? **

**D/C Kurt and Blaine sadly are not mine :'( they belong to FOX**

* * *

Kurt tapped his pen impatiently on the desk – he had math class. He hated math at the best of times, but now the clock was exceptionally slow, marking seconds at its own leisure. He had English next, last period.

This morning, he had dragged Blaine out the house at his normal time after the single most awkward breakfast of his life. He was fairly sure that his boyfriend, _boyfriend!_, was lucky looks couldn't kill – he could tell where he had inherited his cold stares from when his Dad saw Blaine in the morning. Blaine had only made about two inappropriate comments, so it could've been worse...but he was positive that his father now hated Blaine. Well, more so than before. He wasn't giving him a chance, and Blaine wasn't helping either – Kurt was torn about what to do.

He couldn't kid himself – the reason he was so eager to finish math wasn't just the insanely boring topic; next lesson he got to sit with his boyfriend. His sweet boyfriend who seemed to have been dealt everyone else's share of crap and was now unable to open up. Blaine _was_ sweet when he let down his walls, but those walls were difficult to get past. Even when he got through to the boy, he seemed to have back-up barriers that stopped him getting further. He'd gotten so close the night before before his Dad messed things up. Unfortunately, as soon as those walls snapped up Blaine got ridiculously distracting in other ways.

Four more minutes. Kurt continued twisting his biro in-between his fingers. Rachel cast him a questioning look. When she opened her mouth to whisper something he silenced her with a shake of his head and a slightly vacant smile. He re-crossed his legs and shifted his book so that it was at an exactly forty five degree angle to the table.

Two minutes. _God that's a slow clock. _

Finally, the bell rang and he leapt out of his seat, trying to suppress the excitement bubbling up inside him. Sure, Blaine had been distant when they'd arrived at the school, but he was probably be over it by now. He wove his way through the corridors of people, ducking his head. He felt kind of guilty about it but he'd been avoiding Mercedes all day, ducking out of classrooms before she could catch up with him. She was his best friend, but he had absolutely no idea what to tell her and she was by nature going to badger him until he gave "deets" and a half decent explanation on his skipping class and avoiding her weekend texts.

He clutched his bag tightly over his shoulder and kept up his usual holier-than-thou posture, though inside he was like jelly – for more reasons than one. One, he couldn't wait to see his _boyfriend_. Two, (and this was a huge contrast to the bubbling joy he felt for the first reason) he'd just seen Karofsky leering at him from across the hall. His stomach clenched painfully and he hurried on, lengthening his stride.

"Bloody hell babe, we haven't all got fucking long legs like you." Blaine's voice was gruff, but he could almost hear a smile in it.

He slowed his pace. "I didn't know you were there, Blaine."

"Just admiring the view," Blaine smirked, tapping his ass jokingly, "and a mighty fine one it is too."

Kurt felt pink dust his cheeks and groaned. "Don't do that!" he slapped away the boy's hand. "Blaaaaaaine." He whined. His voice suddenly turned serious when he caught the eye of a jock. "Keep your hands to yourself."

"Difficult when you're looking sexy as fuck babe. I could just reach out an-"

"Blaine!" Kurt hissed. "People are staring at us now."

Sure enough, Kurt's eyes met a few indifferent faces, several hostile faces, _shit, that's Rach and 'Cedes_ and... a look of pure fury, hate and something else. Something different and... fiery. Karofsky.

"Shit Blaine, let's just get to English."

"Let 'em stare babe. They're just jealous that my boyfriend is the hottest in the school."

Kurt froze up for a second on boyfriend. Once he'd gotten past that, he remembered Karofsky was just across the hall.

"That I really doubt. C'mon then." He tugged Blaine's jacket, and the boy stumbled after him as he raced down the corridor. Blaine jogged to keep up, before grabbing him before he walked into the classroom.

"What's up babe?"

"Nothings up, let's just get into the classroom." Kurt forced a smile.

"Okay." Blaine leant forwards, brushing their lips together briefly. It was almost tender. Even more to Kurt's shock, he felt a calloused hand wrap around his own and pull him into the classroom. He was trying to clear his head from the fact that he was holding Blaine's hand in front of just about everyone, including Mercedes, Rachel and a bunch of Karofsky's cronies. He shook his head to clear it and gripped Blaine's hand a little tighter, walking next to him to their desk. The room had gone silent when they walked in, but now was full of rejuvenated chatter. He could see a lot of phones coming out. Then he felt his own vibrate. As he sat down, he subtly pulled it out of his pocket and glanced at the screen.

**From Mercedes :)**

He caught her eye, and then shared a tentative smile which she returned with enthusiasm before turning back around. Slipping his hand out of the warm grasp, Kurt unlinked his hand from Blaine's and pulled out his English book along with the homework he and Blaine had completed at the weekend. He glanced back at Blaine, who was clicking his tongue piercing again and leaning back on his chair, looking to the side distractedly. Kurt took in his broad, stocky form and almost perfect profile. The boy turned and winked, before setting his chair back down and leaning forwards in his seat. Kurt swallowed when he looked at his shock of dark curls loosely hanging over his forehead and forced himself to look away. He opened his text from Mercedes;

**Aha. Im stealing u frm ur bf l8er so u cn expln y and wts goin on! Im hppy if ur hppy bt I wnt 2 tlk bout ths k? **

_Jesus (Or,_ he internally sniggered, _as Finn would have said last year, Cheesus)_._ Talk about overusing text slang!? That's almost impossible to read!_

_**Okay. I have detention though, so do you want to talk later?**_

**From Mercedes :) **

**Im callng at 5, u hve no choic! No mor avoidng me!**

_**You've got yourself a deal.** _

"-and we'll be starting at page 124 so if you open up your copies-"

Kurt got sucked into Mr Roger's droning monologue, trying to focus on the lesson, not the hand that was re-entwined with his own beneath the desk. He would never have taken Blaine as a hand holder, but he had been proven wrong. He just kept surprising him.

He spent the majority of the lesson writing down poor quality notes because of the distractions Blaine caused by simply being there. Thankfully, he didn't try anything like last time, but he was so gorgeously perfect that try as he might, Kurt couldn't focus on the lesson. He actually needed to write the notes because Blaine didn't seem to be planning on doing anything that lesson – he was slumped back in his chair, eyes shut.

By the time he'd finally got started writing, Blaine was asleep, head on the desk and arms folded underneath it. His face was buried in the crook of his left elbow, facing Kurt and he was breathing silently, betrayed only by the gentle rise and fall of his back. Kurt snuck a look at the teacher, who was at the other end of the room helping a cheerleader. He gently shook Blaine's shoulder, apprehensive – he remembered last time he'd tried to wake Blaine had involved a knife. Blaine mumbled something quietly and then pushed his face further into his arm. _That's kinda adorable. _He tried to wake him one more time, and then gave up.

Kurt had just gotten back into the swing of analysing the passage when the teacher approached their desk. He nudged Blaine in one last futile attempt to stop him sleeping, but to no avail.

He winced as Mr Roger's stopped by the desk and slammed his hand down onto the desk next to Blaine's head. He knew the teacher probably had good reason to hate his boyfriend – he had only turned up for about two or three lessons and he'd been late to all of them – but generally Kurt had discovered that waking Blaine roughly was dangerous. So when Blaine's eyes snapped open and his hand reached into his pocket instinctively, Kurt grabbed it before he could do something he'd regret. _Pulling a knife out on your teacher probably isn't the best idea._

Blaine's eyes were misted over when he lifted his head, but it cleared swiftly when he looked at the teacher.

"Did you want something, _sir?_" he mocked, smirk wiping away the innocence he possessed whilst unconscious. Kurt squeezed his hand in warning, but he simply winced in pain as Kurt caught the wound on the back of his hand.

"I will not tolerate you sleeping in my classroom! Mr Anderson, you need to focus on the topics just like everyone else and I want you to buck up your ideas now."

* * *

Blaine stared at the teacher with a look of revulsion in his face. "Well it's more fucking interesting than anything you can offer and as long as you're in here I don't think I want to be awake any-fucking-way."

_This is a total over-reaction, but I'm so tired I could scream and the only time I can fucking sleep is when Kurt's here and that shitty teacher whatshisname messing it up. It's not like I haven't done all this stuff before anyway._

The teacher's face reddened. "Don't you dare use that language in my classroom! I demand respect in-"

"I'll give you my fucking respect when you earn it, an I'll just be getting out of the way of your precious little class then! You know what, fuck you!"_ Ugh, I am so sick of this! _

He stood up, grabbed his bag and pushed past the shocked teacher, storming out of the room, shoving his middle finger up at the member of staff. The last image he had burned into his mind was Kurt's disappointed expression, and it filled him with sharp, consuming guilt. He walked out to the drive, still hot from his outburst, and made his way over to the sports field. Once he'd made his way to behind the bleachers and pulled out a cigarette. The smoke curled up into the blue sky, slicing it cleanly into two pieces, each the same colour as the eyes of the boy who he knew he wasn't worthy of.

* * *

Kurt groaned as Blaine yelled, "Fuck you!" and watched as he exited the room with one final obscene gesture. He was going to have to find him in the quarter of an hour before their shared detention. No way was Blaine getting out of it.

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**A/N As I said - _interesting _quality. Thanks for reading! Reviews...are my life blood! xxx**


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N Hey guys, back again. The stupid freaking block is killing me, but I managed to write a bit more. Hope you enjoy :D xx**

**D/C Glee isn't mine :'(**

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Kurt found Blaine ten minutes later with a third of a cigarette dangling from his lips and a steely expression topping off a very successful picture of stay-the-fuck-away-from-me. He'd sent him a text and was pleasantly surprised when Blaine didn't blank it and sent him a brief '**Under the bleachers babe'**.He sat down next to him, distancing himself from the cold aura the boy was giving off. They had only four or five minutes until the detention, but the urgency in Kurt paled when he saw how closed up Blaine had become. He'd assumed that Blaine had been bottling up a lot of emotion or something and it had all just burst out and he felt helpless – unsure of what or if he could do anything to help without sparking Blaine off again. _He's so different without barriers; it's scary when he puts them up. If I'm being honest, I was kinda scared when he was yelling earlier. _

Blaine broke the silence. "I'm sorry." The words hung in the air.

"Why – Blaine, don't apologise, I know you've got a lot going on! It doesn't bother me if you yell at Rogers, well, it does a bit, but as long as you don't get kicked out, it doesn't matter to me. I just want to know what's wrong."

Blaine's face remained stony. "Nothings wrong babe. I yell at teachers all the fucking time don't I?"

"Yeah, I suppose you do, but you never left before."

"I did."

"Ugh! That was different and you know it. We were sent out. Please Blaine."

Blaine looked into Kurt's now greying green eyes and the tiny lines of concern that marred the flawless porcelain skin that surrounded them. He vented his frustration on the tube between his lips by stubbing it vehemently on the ground next to his decrepit boot. He ran a hand through the unruly shock of dark curls that were hiding his forehead. Kurt inched forwards and gently lifted his hand towards Blaine's face, leaving him the opportunity to pull away. When Blaine remained where he was he softly ran a finger over the nearly healed line on his temple, before dropping his hand silently in response to the boy's lack of movement.

They sat there in the awkward position for what felt like an age until suddenly Blaine's face softened and he stood up stretching his shoulders in a shrug and capturing Kurt's eyes with a dim sense of amusement.

"Come on then babe, don't want you to be late for your first detention, do we?"

"I guess not," Kurt mumbled. He wrapped his own hand in the warm embrace of Blaine's chunkier, calloused one and stood up, keeping his fingers in the warm grasp of Blaine's.

* * *

Blaine spent the majority of the detention sitting and staring at Kurt whilst the teacher constantly reprimanded him. But how could he help it when Kurt spent so much time sucking his pen like that? Kurt had to be the sexiest person he had ever met and it was clear he was completely oblivious to the effect he was having on Blaine. Kurt twisted his pen in his mouth and Blaine groaned, causing the boy to shoot him a surprised look. _Shit. Stop looking at him, just look away, and focus on something els...holy fuck what the hell? Okay, so now his concentration has to involve him sticking his tongue out?_ He stared at the end of Kurt's pink tongue just poking out of the corner of his mouth as he scrunched up his brow adorably. _Not fair._

By the time they got out of detention Blaine was half-hard and dying slowly of killer lust for the boy who was chattering away next to him, holding his hand.

"...yeah?" Blaine hazarded a guess. Kurt had asked him something while he was arguing the severity of the consequences if he just picked up the boy in the middle of the corridor and fucked him senseless. Not to mention the fact that Kurt wasn't ready for anything like that, which he'd clarified after Blaine tried to kiss him into the shower that morning. He'd blushed so adorably.

"Are you listening to me? At all...?" Kurt stopped. "I was just saying about Mr Schue's addiction to sweater vests..." Blaine's blank look stopped him. "Oh well, you're lucky you're hot." He smiled.

Blaine twisted half of his mouth into a suggestive grin and ceased walking too. "I'm not the hot one, babe..." He pressed Kurt into the nearest locker, seeking out his mouth.

* * *

"Blaine...mph!" Kurt's reprimand was muffled by Blaine's lips pressing urgently on his own. His lips were slightly chapped but they were still well on their way to becoming Kurt's favourite thing. _I could literally get drunk on this. _He gently pushed Blaine away trying to get control of his tongue. The other boy's chest was pressed so hard against his own he could feel each beat of the quickly pulsing heart it contained. Before he got lost in the pleasure of the moment he shifted Blaine's mouth of his own and twisted when he tried to relocate it on his neck.

"Blaine! No – we're in school!" Kurt pushed away Blaine's insistent head softly. Blaine pulled back, looking ever so slightly sheepish. He pushed the mop of curls on his head back from his forehead in what Kurt was quickly noticing to be a signal that he was uncomfortable.

"That's what you get for blowing your pen for an entire hour babe! If you're gonna be sexy, don't expect me to hold back!"

"Blowing my...oh." Kurt blushed adorably. "It's just an old habit. Did you really think that's sexy?" No one had ever said anything like that to him before and..._I like it._ He bit his bottom lip and Blaine died.

"Fuck yeah babe! There's me with a boner for-"

"Okay, okay Blaine! Point taken." He nibbled his lip a bit more and then looked up, eyes teasing. "Maybe I should do it more often then."

"Just you wait until we get to the car." Blaine smirked.

"Not if I get there first." Kurt quipped, buoyed up on Blaine and his new found 'sexiness'. He sped up down the corridor, Blaine trotting behind him, breaking into a full out run when he reached the door. Blaine seemed to have this way of making him forget about his clothes; forget everything but Blaine. He sprinted across the car park, still giggling at nothing. He reached the door and shoved the key into the driver's door.

Kurt gasped as he felt a pair of strong arms lift him up from behind and spin him round. This time he was the one who pressed their lips together in a fiery dance, sparks of passion none of their previous kisses had had burning through them. His blood tingled as it pulsed through his veins and he wrapped his arms around Blaine's back, crushing their bodies even closer together. Blaine responded in enthusiasm, letting his hands run up and down Kurt's body, leaving trails of heat up and down his body. By the time Blaine's hands had moved a little further south to slip into the back pockets of his jeans Kurt had entirely forgotten where they were. Gasping, Kurt bucked into Blaine as he roughly squeezed his rear. In the back of Kurt's mind a little voice was saying that they making out in the school car park was not the best idea but Blaine's mouth trailing down his jaw was enough of a distraction to block it out. He could feel Blaine, the contours of his chest muffled by the bandage he wore but made up for by the flexed muscles in his arms – _the same arms wrapped around me. A boy who wants ME. _Blaine sucked particularly hard on his jaw bone before moving around to his ear lobe, moaning. Blaine was hard against his leg and he realised that if he didn't stop him, Blaine was probably going to go too far. And they were kind of in the parking lot.

Kurt opened his eyes as far as he could manage. "Too fast, wrong place Blaine!" he whispered.

Blaine licked the mark he'd made on his jaw and then pushed away, resting on the car, one arm on either side of Kurt. Breathing heavily, he looked at Kurt with blown pupils and it took all of Kurt's self-restraint not to just reclaim his wet, reddened lips.

"Do you want to maybe come back to my place, Blaine?" Kurt asked nervously. Blaine nodded, looking away. _Oh God, why is he pissed again? _

They climbed into the car silently and Kurt twisted the key in the ignition. As he was driving out of the gate he noticed a group of letterman jackets climbing into a car with a bunch of size two cheerleaders. Football practise. _Too close to Blaine and I...if I'd given in, that would not have been pretty. _He quickly pulled out the rest of the drive way and switched his internal autopilot. Reaching for the gear lever, Kurt's hand bumped into Blaine's, which twisted softly with his own. He squeezed it, changed gear and then held it again. When he looked at Blaine, he was watching him and smiling softly. _Maybe he's not pissed. He doesn't look pissed. His mood swings are giving me whiplash. _Kurt voiced this thought carefully.

"My life's just one huge pile of shit." Blaine's voice was flat and honest. "Not this though." He lifted their clasped hands. "To be honest this is what's keeping me going."

Ignoring the several beats his heart skipped when he took in Blaine's words, Kurt took a breath. "Can't you tell me what's making it so...shit?"

Blaine went silent.

They spent the rest of the journey sitting in silence, hands still loosely linked.

* * *

_I can't do this much longer. _Blaine sat back stiffly against the seat, trying to adjust himself into a more comfortable position. His ribs had been even worse that morning and a day of walking around the school had taken its toll on him. It wasn't that he couldn't hide it – he'd had plenty of practise, it was just he no longer felt like he wanted to. Being with Kurt made him feel like just curling up under the boy's bed and living there. He followed Kurt into the house, kicking his boots off at the door. He stretched his crushed toes. Kurt pulled a face at the state of Blaine's shoes.

"I think you need some new boots Blaine."

"I think so too." Blaine leant heavily against the wall. It kept happening – he'd have almost forgotten one minute, the next he'd be struggling to walk.

Kurt walked into the kitchen, looking back at Blaine. He had his forehead pressed against the wall.

"What's wrong baby?" Kurt's eyebrows were furrowed in concern.

"Nothing babe." He pushed off the wall and walked over. Kurt's face fell. _I'm sorry. I want to fucking apologise all the time for every shitty thing I do at the moment. _"You need to stop being so sexy."

"Blaine. You know I'm not ready for...that...don't you?"

"Yeah, I didn't mean to pressure you babe."

Kurt smiled and then walked forward, taking Blaine completely by surprise when he hugged him.

"You didn't, I'm okay with making out. Like Friday." Kurt was bright red.

Blaine pulled off his scarf and pressed his nose into the taller boy's neck, and slowly walked him backwards into the front door. When their lips found each other once again, he tried to make sure he wasn't doing anything Kurt might be uncomfortable with. It was weird. Normally he didn't give a fuck what the other person wanted. Desperately turned on as he might be, he was attempting to be gentle. It lasted out until Kurt started to try and form coherent words with Blaine still nibbling on his bottom lip.

"Ah...I cha-a, Blaine stop it, I changed my mi-ind." Kurt kissed him with a new fervour. Blaine smirked when he let out a whine when he unglued their lips.

"About what?" Blaine asked, voiced laced with curiosity.

"Going slow." Kurt looked mortified.

"Are you sure Kurt? You do know that I don't want you to be uncomfortable?" Blaine cursed his own awkwardness.

"Yeah."

Blaine pressed a kiss to his lips that made Kurt moan loudly. He opened his mouth and Blaine's tongue slipped in, sliding over Kurt's, before running over the inside of his mouth. Blaine's fingers knotted themselves in his hair and resisting the urge to do the same was unbearable.

The doorbell rang.

They jumped, knocking teeth together.

"Shit, sorry babe." Blaine rubbed his mouth. Kurt mirrored the action.

"Stupid door."

* * *

Kurt ran his fingers through his dishevelled hair, trying to neaten it and straighten his clothes. Looking at Blaine, he realised no matter how he tried to neaten himself, he was screwed. Blaine licked over his reddened lips and Kurt decided he probably looked exactly the same. _Oh well. _He rubbed over the sore patch on his neck. Blaine was so possessive.

"Could you maybe go down to my room, baby? I don't want Dad to...you know."

Blaine sighed, nodding. "I'll be down there."

Kurt opened the door a crack.

"White boy! You took your time."

"...'Cedes! I thought you were calling."

"Yeah, at your house!"

"Ah." He realised the door was still nearly shut and pulled it open all the way. "Come in." Blaine's shoes were lying in the hall in plain view. _Crap. This is gonna get so hard to explain._ _Maybe she won't notice. _Mercedes' eyes zoned straight in on the extra pair of boots. Then they scanned Kurt up and down, taking in his unusually messed up hair and clothes and the red marks on his neck. She grinned.

"I'm not interrupting am I? Cause unless you've taken to unstyled hair and leather..."

"No you're not interrupting anything, 'Cedes." _Kinda true, we weren't exactly doing anything, just kissing. Is that doing something? _"Let's get this over with."

"Glad you've been missing me." Mercedes' said sarcastically. "I can go if you want."

"Hey, no I didn't mean it like that 'Cedes, I'm sorry. I'm just a bit overwhelmed at the moment." He linked their arms. "Right, where'd you want to go?"

"Wherever lover boy is hiding. I have to check he's good enough for my boy."

_Blaine's gonna love this. More interrogation. _"Fine. Try to tolerate him if he starts being a jerk, okay?"

"Erm, sure?"

Kurt dragged her down to his room. He wrinkled his nose at Mercedes' expression when she said 'In the bedroom Kurt?' teasingly. They walked in to find Blaine curled around Kurt's pillow, fast asleep.

"Don't wake him, 'Cedes." _Last thing he needed was him threatening Mercedes in his sleep. Great bonding technique._

She sighed dramatically. "Alright, but I still need to interrogate him."

"I wish you trusted me Kurt."

"I do 'Cedes, for the last time, but I don't think Blaine would want me to...anyway, he won't explain to me. No matter how hard I try and I'm so worried about him. I don't know what's wrong, but he won't tell me why he's got that black eye or any of it." Kurt wiped away the frustrated tear that had slipped down his cheek. Mercedes quickly enfolded him in a hug.

"Oh boo..." She felt helpless. After getting Kurt to give her 'deets' and pointing out the line of new hickeys (which he quickly hastened to cover) he'd been unable to give any excuse for him ditching on Friday.

"Why are these lying in the middle of my hall, Kurt?" Burt's voice wound into the room. Kurt quickly dabbed his eyes on his sleeve.

"Hey Dad, um, they're Blaine's."

Burt's head popped around the doorframe. "Does he live here now, or something? Where is he?"

"Downstairs, asleep."

Burt looked confused, but just accepted it. "Okay. I want him gone this time though, by seven."

"He will be Dad."

"Hi Mercedes."

"Hi Burt."

His head disappeared.

"I'd better get going, Tina expected me about quarter of an hour ago. Will you be okay, boo?"

"Yeah, see you 'Cedes."

Once Mercedes had gone, Kurt went down to his room and sat next to Blaine on his bed. He pressed a kiss to his screwed up forehead.

"I wish you trusted me," he whispered.

* * *

**A/N I love Burt. I'm probably not gonna update for a while because I need to sort out all my notes on the future story line (they are a bit of a mess [and by a bit I mean a lot] :D) but this one is fairly long to make up for it :) **

**Reviews as always make me so happy (I swear I almost die when I see 'new review for Fighter' in my inbox) :D less than three xxx**


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N Hi... I am so sorry about the huge wait. Three weeks - geez! I just couldn't write. But now, my block is gone! *yay* ****This chapter is pretty short, but it's a start. To those of you who have been asking for Blaine to spill the beans...never fear, very soon!**

**Thank you so much everyone for the wonderful feedbck you've been giving me - it inspires me so much. **

**I got my first review in a different language yesterday! Wow. (I probably made a fool of myself trying to reply though :0) **

**Enjoy the mini update! xx**

* * *

Kurt pulled his feet in close under his body and wrapped his arms around them tightly. Sighing, his head flopped back and hit the locker. It was Friday and as far as Kurt was concerned everything sucked. He had had to layer on a ton of cover-up the day before after a particularly nasty locker shove (courtesy of Karofsky) and today he was on his second set of clothes. Not to mention boyfriend trouble.

"Faggot. Go back to fairy land!" The slap of hands together in a high five. Each word still ringing in his ears. Some of the things they yelled at him were ridiculous, but they still hurt.

Dragging himself off the floor, Kurt winced. The bell had gone ages ago, but he didn't really have the will to care. Once he'd walked to his locker, he grabbed the last outfit in the pile and made a beeline for the toilets.

The whitewashed walls glared at him when he got in. Too bright in his stinging eyes. Of course the slushie had been blue – the worst colour, in Kurt's opinion, and he had experience. It tended to stain skin. He turned on the tap and ducked his head under it, squinting, vigorously scrubbing at his skin and hair. Once the chill had gone he looked up and dried himself with the hand towel he kept in his locker, and went to lock the door. In the mirror, his reflection gazed back at him steadily. Kurt vaguely registered the way his hair had flopped, how bloodshot his eyes were, and how his once fabulous outfit was...blue. He slipped off his scarf and folded it neatly, placing the dripping neckwear in the sink next to him.

The remainder of the epic hickey line on his neck was still obvious. His hand ghosted over the mottled skin and remembered Blaine sucking at it only a few days ago. That was thing – since he woke up Blaine on Monday he'd been withdrawn when they were alone, and almost obnoxious at school – generally acting pissed off. Kurt had no idea why. Sure Blaine held his hand this morning, for the first time since Monday, but he still felt like he was getting the silent treatment.

He removed the rest of his clothes and folded them as well. Then he grabbed the pile he'd brought with him, realising as he did that they were his sweats for dance. _Wow. Today really does suck._ Just a pair of knee length sweatpants and a streaky grey t-shirt. The kind of thing he'd only wear in front of his glee girlfriends. _Oh well. _He slipped into the clothes, wishing the t-shirt didn't have such a wide-neck. Sure, that was the only thing redeeming the outfit; the slight presence of style, but _Holy shit you can see just about every hickey Blaine gave me. _His collarbones were dotted with more half-healed bruises, as was the skin between his neck and shoulder. Not to mention the one that had made scarves necessary all week. He rooted through his satchel, but unsurprisingly, no convenient scarf or concealer in his toiletry bag. His appearance in the mirror made him cringe. Slightly blue-tinged skin. Flat damp hair. Red eyes and nose. This was well and truly the last straw.

Once one tear had escaped, the floodgates opened. Sitting there, on the floor of the girl's bathroom, boiling hot tears running down his cheeks, Kurt had never felt so pathetic. He gulped down the lump in his throat and pushed himself up, wiping his eyes on his long sleeve. He pulled out his towel again, rubbed it through his hair and then a comb and hairspray. At least if he was going to look like crap, his hair would have style.

One last check in his wash bag didn't unveil any make up. He fingered the bruises.

Kurt pulled his phone and checked the screen. One message from Blaine.

**From Blaine**

**Where are you babe?**

_Oh yeah. Fourth period...means English. _He locked the phone and shoved it into his baggy pocket.

He really didn't want Blaine to see him right now.

Three more minutes saw him standing outside the nurse's office faking a migraine. Since the slushy had made his cheeks flushed and skin pale, he was admitted and told to lie down and try to sleep it off. His racing mind made sleep in possible, but all he had to do was pretend until glee club. Blaine wouldn't be there.

* * *

Blaine flicked his tongue stud against his teeth in agitation. His fingers opened and closed his penknife deftly, and he fidgeted around in his seat. Kurt still hadn't replied. _Where the fuck is he? _He flicked the blade open again and poked the desk experimentally. _He hasn't replied, why hasn't he replied? He always replies. _His hand guided the point of the blade through the desk. _Maybe I should just... _His thoughts stopped abruptly as he stared at what he had carved absentmindedly into the desk. A narrow 'K'. 'K' for Kurt. He stood up violently, pushing the desk away.

The teacher looked up tiredly. "Mr Anderson, I must insist that you sit down and put the desk back."

Blaine marched out of the classroom, hands deep in the pockets of his jacket. He slammed the door extra hard because he seriously hated Mr fucking Rogers.

He didn't actually know what he was planning on doing now he was out here in the corridor so he lit up a cigarette and leant back against the lockers.

"_I wish you trusted me." The cool press of smooth lips to his forehead. _Blaine shook his head. He'd been in the process of mustering up enough energy open his eyes and go see if Kurt was coming back to his room, when the boy had sat down next to him. As he spoke, his voice had been so soft Blaine had almost missed his words. Almost. Then with Kurt sitting next to him he'd slipped back off the sleep again. He replayed the tiny fragment of memory over and over in his head; for all he knew it could have been a dream. _"I wish you trusted me." _Didn't Kurt know that he did? _I trust him more than I've trusted anyone in my life. _This week he'd noticed Kurt had quietened down a lot – usually he'd always happily chattered on about whatever new issue of that magazine he was obsessed with had suggested, or about glee club or shopping and Blaine would attempt to nod at the right times and make small contributions, but he'd become very passive. _Why?_

_WHY HAS HE STILL NOT FUCKING REPLIED? _Blaine took a deep puff of his cigarette and released it slowly. He stubbed the cigarette on the nearest locker, let it cool and stuffed it back into his pocket. _He's probably realised how deep your shit actually is. _Blaine kicked the locker and slid down it. _I need to find him. _He knew that Kurt had study hall with him next, but he was not going to that. Then he had...glee club. Blaine shrugged his jacket more securely onto his shoulders and stood up. He was going to camp out under the bleachers for an hour.

* * *

**A/N Hope you guys enjoyed it... **

**One thing - if, to quote WolfSlinx, my 'Brit is showing', I would really appreciate any tips/ whatever. If anyone would be willing to give me a few things to watch out for that would be great! Thanks :D**

**Reviews...pretty much make my day at the moment :) less than three**


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N You guys are the best. Your reviews make me smile so much. Therefore, I have to apologise - Blainey's not telling in this chapter. I'd just like to warn you. But I swear - he will do soon; I was planning and I decided that this needed space to sort out. Stand by me!**

**On the up side, however, this chapter is longer! Erm..I think I'll be updating ABOUT once a week from now on, give or take. **

**Also, if any of you guys haven't read it, you HAVE to read Welcome to Hogwarts by admiller. It is AMAZING. I've been reading it and Welcome Back To Hogwarts again for like the fifth time. It is pure awesomeness.**

**Last thing I swear - OMWG THE NEW GLEE! Had to let that out.**

**Enjoy :) *hugs computer***

* * *

Blaine walked down the corridor towards the choir room. _I'm actually doing this. _Students were slowly trickling out, leaving the hall almost empty. Hands deep in pockets, he slowed as he reached the door.

"Heard our boy Hummel's your new cocksucker, Anderson. Hope he's felt the benefit of the little lesson we gave him earlier." a voice sneered behind him. Blaine jerked to a halt with his eyes shut.

"What. The fuck. Did you just say?" he spat. He turned on his heel and snapped his eyes open. He curled his fists.

"You. Fagging around with Hummel. We thought it was only him who we need to crush the queer out of." The jock's voice faltered slightly as Blaine stalked towards him. His mates closed ranks. A tense silence shuddered through the hallway.

Blaine grabbed the heavyset guy by the collar and slammed him into the nearest locker, despite his obvious height and weight. He shrugged off the hands pulling him back and twisted the white collar in his fingers.

"Listen to me. You think that this," he grabbed the letterman jacket and pulled it roughly, "will protect you. If you do anything to Hummel, I wouldn't be so fucking sure of yourself." Blaine smacked his right fist into the locker next to the guy's head. The bang echoed down the hallway.

"Are you..."

"What is going on out here?" Blaine shoved the jock away from him, hard into the locker, and glared as the chunky guy straightened his jacket and rejoined his mates.

A curly haired teacher wearing a sweater vest approached the group.

"Nothing, just a little discussion between friends, sir." One of the so far silent guys from behind spoke up, tugging on the offender's sleeve hard. "Come on Dave."

Blaine replaced his hands in the soft-lined pocket of his jacket. The teacher cast him one more glance and then re-entered the choir room. _Okay, that must be Schuester. Or whatever his stupid name is. _

Blaine tugged his jacket tighter over his shoulders, glaring at the retreating back of the jerk he threatened. _Dave_. What had he meant about 'teaching Kurt a lesson'? Blaine heart was swelling painfully as he thought about what sort of things could happen to him. _There's only one way to find out. _He pushed his way through the choir room door harshly and scanned the room of shocked faces for one in particular. Kurt's perfect porcelain smile wasn't amongst the ragtag group of misfits. He cleared his throat and walked to the opposite end of the set of chairs and plunked himself down.

* * *

Kurt sat up stiffly. He'd been lying there pretending to be asleep for so long he had begun to wonder if facing Blaine would've been less effort. It would have been the more sensible option. _I am so confused. _He thanked the nurse, assuring her that he felt better and picked up his bag, wishing she hadn't called his Dad. It had been pretty hard persuading him he didn't need to go home. He combed a half-hearted hand through his squashed hair and left the office. At least he could go to glee now. He was kidding himself if no one would notice his new dress code, but at least they wouldn't force him to talk. Sure, Mercedes and Rachel would crack down on him but he was getting good at evasion and Finn probably wasn't going, what with football practise. He'd already missed half an hour of the club as he'd have been at detention if he hadn't been excused because of his 'migraine'. Being a (usually) good student had its benefits.

It took him next to no time to weave his way through the empty halls to his dented locker. He deftly entered the combination and gave it a few specific tugs. When it opened he shoved his bag of sticky clothes into it and examined his flushed reflection in the compact mirror he kept in there, toying with his limp forelock that was gently curling around his temple. He had hoped that when he 'woke up' he would look less like crap. No such luck.

He sighed, pushing the locker closed with his bodyweight and reluctantly walked down the hall towards the choir room.

* * *

"What's your name-" the teacher started.

"Blaine Anderson." He cut off the conversation before it could begin.

Blaine lounged back in his chair ignoring the shocked glances he was receiving, occasionally leering back to stop the stares. He was busy flipping off a guy with a Mohawk who looked vaguely familiar for glaring at him when he felt a confident hand on his bicep. The Mohawk dude was pulled back into his chair by Kurt's brother when he stood up to retaliate. Blaine turned his attention to the hand.

It was slim and tanned. He looked up at its owner and took in the leggy owner. She squeezed his arm slowly and then held out the other hand.

"Santana Lopez."

Blaine ignored the outstretched hand and gently prised her other one off his arm.

"What do you want?" he said roughly.

She fluidly straddled his lap.

"Now I was thinking, if you wants to get up on this, hobbit boy," she ran a hand inside his jacket "then you could drop Hummel..."

Blaine removed her hand again, and placed his hands on her waist to push her away.

"Wrong anatomy Lopez. You lack a certain part that this tongue would just-" He noticed a flushed face in the doorway and stopped talking.

* * *

Kurt pushed into the room and walked in slowly, not really looking up. When he did he approached his usual seat next to Rachel, only to notice it taken by Finn.

"I thought you had football, Finn." Kurt searched the room for Mercedes to sit next to. She gave him a brief wave, a questioning look on her face.

"It was cancelled because of the rain, dude." Kurt barely hear Finn answer.

His cheeks drained of colour. Blaine was sitting back in his seat with both his hands on Santana, who was leaning forward on his lap. He threw him a lazy wink and patted the seat next to him, shoving Santana off.

His brain rushed into overdrive and he ran out, not waiting to reply to the calls of 'Kurt?' He just kept running until he reached his car. Once he was in he curled up in the seat. _Of course Blaine's just using you. Isn't that why Mercedes was so reluctant to be happy and he's been acting strange. He's not getting it from me so he's turned to Santana. A girl, for God's sake. _Kurt felt a twinge when he remembered holding Blaine's hand in the corridors, another when he tried to remember Blaine's certain scent of something slightly smoky and very masculine. _How can this hurt so much? I've only known him, what, two weeks? And I've had my doubts. _He blinked back a tear. He shoved the car into gear and tried to clear his blurry vision.

* * *

Blaine sprinted painfully out the main entrance. He'd yelled something obscene at Lopez and then knocked the teacher out of the way on his charge to the door. He was not looking forward to the consequences. When he'd seen the shock and hurt in the perfect boy's face he'd panicked. Kurt had been looking so entirely unlike his usual chatty self.

It was drizzling outside and he recoiled into his jacket a bit further as he ran. The drops trickled through his curls into his eyes, obscuring his view. He vaguely registered Kurt's car pulling out of the drive.

"Kurt, wait!" He yelled, voice husky. He caught a glimpse of Kurt's blue eyes in the wing mirror, distorted by droplets of rain. He limped faster towards the car, but the boy drove away. He flinched when he realised Kurt was leaving him alone here. He'd gotten so used to having somewhere to go to in such a short amount of time.

Blaine sat down in the middle of the grey car park, glad that it was devoid of people, and let the building rain soak through his thin dark t-shirt and jeans. The cold numbed his fingers and he tugged his jacket down over them, slipping his thumbs through the thumb holes. Tears, masked by the rain, slid down his face unrestrained. Just like everything else good in his life, this had ended all too quickly.

* * *

**A/N :'( **

**I'm sorry :/ less than three xxx**


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N Hey guys, I've had this ready for about a week but I didn't post idek why, but it was probably coz of angst overload after 4x04. Short update, but enjoy! Erm...warnings for clichéd lines. And I'm thinking more within three days...but who knows with my dodgy organisation. Oh well...onwards!**

**D/C Nope. Still nope.**

* * *

Blaine wondered with a detached sort of interest how long he'd been out in the rain. His tangled curls were plastered to his head, droplets rolling down his nose and mingling with the salt streaks on his cheeks, washing away the signs of weakness. The rain was harshly cold. He pulled the battered phone out of his pocket. Only quarter of an hour before that glee club crap ended. He had to get out before that slutty cheerleader came out and continued hitting on him. _Bitch. _Blaine straightened up, shivering slightly against the cold. He felt sick at the way his chest ached with guilt.

"Mr Anderson!"

Blaine heard an angry voice call his name. He slowly spun on his heel and eyed his English teacher with disgust. The man was glaring at him from the front entrance.

"Come here, right now! I've been given no valid reason for your missed detention today and-"

Blaine cut him off.

"I can tell you're tense, _sir_. All you really need is a good fuck to loosen you up. However, I can't help you there I'm afraid, I'm all booked up tonight and to be perfectly honest, you're not my type. Though, the teacher-student kink could be fun." He gave a weak interpretation of his usual body length scan.

He walked deliberately over to his motorbike and straddled it. He gripped the handlebar tightly, tendons standing out in his neck at the tension. With a loud rev, he drove out of the gates, leaving a pissed teacher behind him. Blaine squinted against the blur of the rain, not entirely sure where he was going. It had taken him a minute to realise why Kurt had run out, but when he received another flirtatious look from Santana, it all became clear. Of course, Kurt had got completely the wrong impression, but that was all it would take.

Something the English teacher had said had planted a seed of doubt in his mind, anyway. _I missed the last detention. Kurt probably sat there on his own, starting to notice all the crap about me and realising I'm not worth the effort._ He twisted the acceleratora bit further, starting to slowly direct himself towards the place he'd spent every afternoon that week, much of it sleeping. _Sleeping? Why did I do that...I mean seriously! I'm used to tiredness. I don't need sleep! I'm his first boyfriend and he's probably thinking that he's made a terrible choice...which he has. What do** we** do together? I sleep. I fucking sleep. _

Rain beat down a little harder. The heavy sloshing of the wheels slicing muddy puddles spattered the road loudly. _I thought something was different about him. He was wearing sweatpants. And his hair was flat. Crap, something's happened to him. Fuck, fuck, fuck. All week I've been brooding about my own pointless issues, when all along something's going on with him and I didn't even notice. He's going to leave me for being useless. Like everyone. _Blaine screwed up his face. He pulled up the vehicle outside Kurt's house and looked at the lit up home in front of him. _I've got to get him back. Explain, at least. He can't leave me now I've come so far with trust. _He rubbed his hands together, trying to get a pinprick of warmth in them. _I probably pressured him. _He shook his numb fingers, hating the rubbery sensation in his desensitised hands. He picked up the door knocker and tapped it twice, hard, before stepping back from the door. _What do you want, a proper rejection? He does not. Want. You. Get over it. You're worthless. _He frowned at the familiarity in the statement._ Dad never wanted me. _Shaking, he pulled his jacket clumsily over his freezing fingers and pulled it around his body. His heart throbbed painfully against his ribs.

He stepped forwards and lifted the knocker again, trying to calm the whirlpool of negativity in his head. Another two knocks. He waited a little longer, and then finally the door opened. A red face poked out, and bloodshot eyes settled angrily on his face.

"I don't want to talk to you." He stated coolly, a slight quiver betraying him.

Blaine looked at Kurt. He'd obviously bee crying and it tore him up to know he'd caused it.

"Kurt, I'm sorry, please let me explain! I haven't done anything wit-" Blaine pleaded.

"I don't want to hear it Blaine!" Kurt's voice was getting higher and louder. "I understand – you're not getting it here so you'll get it anywhere! You know what, my friends told me you'd hurt me and I ignored them. I don't want anything from you."

"It's not what it looked like, I swear, babe! She was just-"

"Don't 'babe' me! Just...fuck off Blaine Anderson." He shut the door heavily and curled up, back against it, tears streaming down his cheeks.

Blaine felt a heavy numbness sweep over him and dropped his head onto the door. He'd failed. Hands shoved deep in his pockets, he sat down on the door step and stared at his feet. Feeling so, so lonely.

* * *

Kurt unfurled himself slowly and walked back down to his room. Regret that he didn't let Blaine speak was starting to creep into the back thoughts of his mind. _Maybe he didn't...no. I can't make excuses for him. _He ignored his phone buzzing in his pocket for about the fifth time and sat down on his bed. Considering how happy he had been a few days ago, he couldn't believe how deep the downward spiral he had taken was. Everything felt like shit. The stupid sweatpants, the hickey on his neck that had made him smile every time he thought of it. Seeing Blaine's perfect face at the door, bruises nearly gone had taken him right back to the gut-wrenching pain he'd felt when he saw that bitch on top of him at glee. Realising that Blaine really wasn't different from how he had seemed – a jerk. That he really was using him.

Kurt swallowed the lump in his throat. He had to face things before his Dad got home. _I don't want him to worry, remember his heart. _Opening his phone, Kurt was unsurprised.

**4 messages from Mercedes  
****1 message from Finn  
****1 message from Blaine**

He opened the first five; Mercedes begging him to text her back 'asap' and a confusing one from Finn.

**From Blaine **

**I'm sorry. Really, it's not what it looked like. xxx**

Hovering his finger over Blaine's text, he made a decision. He deleted the message and threw his phone onto the foot of the bed, lying back.

* * *

Blaine pulled his coat around him further, shivering. _Shit, it's cold. _The rain was still dripping through his curls, down his neck, in his eyes. _What do I do now? Do I just sit here, wait for his dad to come back, his brother, family? Or what? Go home and face my fucking 'family'. _Blaine settled back against the door, sparing the latter less than a thought. _I'd rather sit here in case someone lets me explain than go back there and face my own shit_. _I mean, sitting in the rain is becoming a thing today. _

* * *

**A/N :( **


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